


Boiler or Helicopter? It's a matter of Perspective.

by ncruuk



Series: Behind the Beret - being Bernie [7]
Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncruuk/pseuds/ncruuk
Summary: For Bernie and Alex, this would be remembered as 'the weekend the boiler was broken' as, for them, that was the 'something different'.Which, in and of itself, wouldn't have been that remarkable were it not that everyone else would remember it as something quite different, starting with a helicopter...The Royal Marines were almost incidental.Almost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will make little sense unless you've read my other Holby Stories...this is set between 'In the Absence of Raspberry Ripple a Burger Will Do' and before 'Memories Old Experienced Anew'. It is set pre Isaac appearing/getting his claws into Dom, so we have chirpy cheeky Dom rather than broken Dom. Also, as with all my stories, there is no Trauma Unit.
> 
> I'm not a medic or a soldier - if there's a mistake that is glaring and you know how to help me fix it, please get in touch! Otherwise, I hope what follows is plausible enough (or at least no more implausible than your average Holby City episode!) to readable and enjoyable.
> 
> Please be aware that this story includes references to fictitious military personnel wounded in Afghanistan. The references and mentions within this fic are consistent (in terms of 'graphic') to that which has been shown on screen in Holby since the character of Bernie first appeared. It also gets a bit...not exactly gruesome (I don't think - and I don't cope well with gruesome), but it is a bit more like a Casualty episode (where they have the 'at the accident' scenes) rather than a Holby episode (where the gory bit happens only in the theatres and wards).

**SATURDAY NIGHT...**

 

“You hate this.”  Alex’s voice was soft, not quiet, but soft like she was speaking in confidence rather than shouting, her words clearly heard by Bernie over the loud music that was making her sternum vibrate.  She’d never particularly enjoyed the sensation and, experiencing it now for the first time since she’d had her heart surgery...Dismissing that nagging doubt as nonsense with a mental note to deliver the clinical lecture to herself at a future date as to why she needed to not worry about it, Bernie tried to work out how she’d even heard the words, before she registered the warm feeling of her girlfriend’s breath on her ear and realised Alex had leaned in and spoken straight down her ear.

 

Wrapping her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders, Bernie pulled Alex into a tight hug, intending primarily to reassure her that she was fine with the bright strobing lights, the dark corners and the pulsating  _ noise  _ that she had previously only experienced when surrounded by exploding live ordnance.  Shifting her stance slightly and pulling Alex even closer, so they were standing with their bodies fused together from hip to shoulder, chests rising and falling together, she sought out Alex’s ear.

 

“I’m adjusting.”  Bernie pulled back just enough for Alex to see her crooked grin picked out by the strobing lights that pulsed in time to the heavy beat of the music track, then leaned back into Alex and added, “it’s not all bad,” before taking advantage of Alex’s proximity and tracing the shell of her girlfriend’s ear with the tip of her tongue.  Alex’s very response shudder emboldened Bernie further, and she repeated the tracing before angling her head and continuing down to find neck to kiss.

 

Caught between a moan - Bernie really was far, far too good at finding _ those _ spots that turned Alex’s legs to jelly - and a laugh at her antics, Alex saw Matty approaching and reluctantly pulled away from Bernie just enough for her to take the hint and stop her kisses, although she didn’t move away from Alex.  Not that she could, realised Bernie when she felt a hand slip into the back pocket of her jeans, a hand that she really hoped was her girlfriend’s.

 

“Is that..” she asked Alex, leaning close to her ear again  so she could be heard.

 

“You mind?”  Alex started to pull her hand back, thinking she’d maybe gone too far, only for Bernie to shake her head and, as if to make extra certain she wasn’t being misunderstood, pouted.  “Goof…” Shaking her head at Bernie’s antics, Alex left her hand where it was and leaned more comfortably against Bernie’s shoulder and side as she turned to wave to Matty, not sure if he’d seen them.

 

Returning his sister’s wave, Matt eased his way through the busy but not yet rammed dance floor until he reached them.

 

“Hi.”  He held up two bits of neon coloured plastic that, to Bernie, looked like hospital admission bands.  “For you.”  He wasn’t entirely surprised when Bernie looked completely lost - she’d not said in so many words that she’d never been to anything like this before, but he’d seen how Alex had guided her through the whole arrival process and stopped her from asking too many questions when they’d had their hands stamped with that night’s symbol.  However she’d been a quick study and just before, when she’d leaning against the railing totally focussed on his sister, wearing black skinny jeans and a black shirt that was reminding Matt of the jackets chefs wore she’d looked completely at ease and happy.  More to the point, as Alex had turned away and waved to him, Matt saw how relaxed and happy and...in love, his sister had looked.

 

“What is it?” asked Alex, taking the bands in her right hand and looking between them and him, her eyebrow raised in question.

 

Gesturing for her to lean forward so he could talk to her more easily, Alex turned further into Bernie so she was effectively stood side on to both Bernie and Matt.  

 

“VIP area access.”  Matt leaned back so he could see Alex’s reaction, prompting him to grin when he saw her look of disbelief before she leaned forwards again, silently instructing him to explain.

 

“It’s not much, roped off corner but there’s water and beer…”  Matt felt someone tumble into his back, clearly the dancers were attempting some more expansive and energetic moves, so he took a second to regain his footing and balance.  “...and personal space,” he added, earning him a glare from Alex which confused him at first.

 

“Oh!”  He shook his head rapidly.  “Not…”  He gestured between Alex and Bernie, genuinely horrified she’d thought he was being negative about their behaviour - while it was rather more  _ physical  _ than he’d seen them be outside the flat, it was hardly an extreme display and certainly significantly tamer than what he’d already seen in the queue for the bogs...not to mention what was no doubt going on in the bogs that was causing the queue.  “That…”  He gestured over his shoulder and mimed being pushed.

 

Sensing that an awkward moment was forming between the two siblings, Bernie thrust her left hand between them and wiggled her arm, attracting their attention.  Pointedly looking at the bands Alex was still holding, she then looked at her wrist, her message clearly asking what they were waiting for.  Unseen by Matt she also squeezed her glutes which, given where Alex’s left hand was currently resting...

 

Grinning, Alex withdrew her left hand from Bernie’s pocket and shifted away from the surgeon just enough to be able to use both hands to attach the neon band around Bernie’s wrist, its colour and graffiti tag inspired pattern a sharp contrast to Bernie’s watch.  She then handed the other band back to Matt and put her right wrist under his nose, her message clear.  Her left arm had already disappeared back behind Bernie and she was once more comfortably settled against her girlfriend’s side.

 

Resisting the urge to fasten it on too tight, Matt quickly attached the band securely but comfortably around her wrist before jerking his head in the direction of the corner that was the VIP area, suggesting that they should head over there now.

 

Judging from their reactions, they both understood his suggestion although, while Alex was clearly prepared to head over there, Bernie’s face suggested otherwise.

 

“Ok?” Matt looked at his sister, his eyes darting to Bernie, wanting her to work out what was troubling Bernie.

 

“Bern?”  Picking up on his unease, Alex looked at her girlfriend, reading clearly in her face that there was something or, more likely someone, between their current position and the anticipated sanctuary of the VIP area.  Alex leaned closer into Bernie again, but this time moving so she was right in front of her, Bernie instinctively shifting so it was easier to hold Alex close enough to be able to talk into her ear.

 

“Can we go round not through?”  

 

Alex pulled back just enough to be able to study Bernie thoughtfully - she knew the surgeon refused to ‘dance’ but hadn’t thought she was going to refuse to even cross the dance floor to get from A to B.

 

Understanding Alex’s question, Bernie nodded in the direction of the dancefloor then tilted her head, ready to explain to Alex once her ear was back in range.

 

“Dom Copeland’s here…”  When she felt Alex start to shift, presumably to move away from Bernie to have a look, Bernie ran her hands up and down Alex’s back in a wordless request that she stay still so Bernie could finish.  “With a group I think...they’re having fun...don’t want to cramp his style.”  She relaxed her grasp, conveying that she’d finished her explanation now, confident Alex would understand.

 

“Got it.”  Pressing a kiss to Bernie’s neck, Alex then snatched a brief kiss from a lovably sluggish Bernie that confirmed she had in fact found  _ that  _ spot on Bernie’s neck that always managed to do very interesting things to her lover, but which Bernie had apparently never known about prior to Alex.  Feeling rather pleased with herself, not least for starting to get ‘even’ with Bernie for her earlier teasing, Alex turned around and tapped her brother on the shoulder and waved by way of ‘hello’ to Hari and Jako who had now appeared as well.

 

“Lead on, around the dance floor,” instructed Alex, mainly in hand signals.

 

“Oh?”  Matt followed her lead and spoke both with words and hand gestures.

 

“Junior Doctor.  Don’t want to cock block.”  

 

Laughing, the three Royal Marines proved to be rather effective at clearing a path for them that took Bernie and Alex around the edge of the dance floor and into the roped off VIP area with the minimum of accidental collisions with energetic dancers.

 

* * *

 

 

Soon, Bernie was settled once more against another convenient railing, a bottle of water in her left hand and her right arm once more wrapped around Alex, who had decided that the nicest place to be was once more tucked up against her Bernie.

 

Her Bernie.

 

There were no rules, civilian or military, that they needed to worry about being accused of breaking.  Not now.  It had taken a while for Bernie to fully adjust to her new reality, a reality in which they didn’t need to be circumspect about their relationship anymore.  

 

They might have found each other when they were on the wrong side of the rules...both military and marriage, with Bernie bearing the brunt of any fallout were they to have been discovered, but not now.  

 

It had taken Alex a while, after that locum shift when she’d delivered her ultimatum to Bernie, to see just how much Bernie had to come to break down and rebuild in order to be in a position to not just know what she wanted but reach out and grasp it.  Despite their time together in Afghanistan which was very much against the rules, Alex knew that a big part of Bernie would always only be comfortable when she could be back ‘inside’ the rules, despite her talent for knowing when to break them...  

 

But they’d made it, together, pieces of their lives slotting together as they worked through their pasts and built the foundations for their future, together.  Piece by piece they’d clambered on over each new little challenge that needed negotiating, be it working together in the same hospital and operating theatre or socialising with their AAU friends or Ronnie and Charlie… And earlier this evening, meeting Matty’s friends, or rather re-meeting Marines last seen under an Afghan sun.  It wasn’t saluting each other on parade, but it was rather more ‘military’ company than she and Bernie had been keeping of late, with her brother’s friends instinctively starting to call her ‘Captain Dawson’ before remembering her encouragement to call her ‘Alex’.

 

Bernie, who’d already met them briefly when she’d picked Matt up from the station, had been amused by this and kept her rank quiet, content to be ‘just Bernie”, her relationship with Alex inferable from their joined hands and casual touches… they’d not got away with it, keeping Bernie’s military record quiet, not that they’d deliberately planned to, it just hadn’t come up...at least, not until Matty had finished a story about his CO that had them all in stitches and then Bernie, without really realising it, had asked a question about the CO that suggested that she knew him, then confirmed it when she concluded that it sounded like he’d not completely grown up into a Major, that he was still ‘Hopalong Horbain’ as some of the nurses had nicknamed him as a young Lieutenant.  [Privately, Bernie actually had thought of him as ‘troublesome Toby’ but she’d kept that to herself and only told Alex in the Ladies later…]

 

It had been a bit awkward at first, until the truth had been explained, that yes she was Major Bernie Wolfe but no, she hadn’t mentioned it because she wasn’t exactly  _ in  _ the Army just now and really, just carry on as they were… she was just the Sergeant’s sister’s girlfriend...just  _ technically _ an Officer…. 

 

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Alex looked at Bernie, certain she was grinning like a fool.

 

“What?”  Bernie’s hair tickled Alex’s jaw as she leaned in to speak.

 

“Nothing.”  Apart from her grin getting even broader and probably now being accompanied by bright blushes.

 

Bernie’s answering grin and raised eyebrow confirmed to Alex that she was definitely blushing.  Leaning forwards, she sought out Bernie’s ear again.

 

“Old news...but I love you... Major Wolfe…”  She felt Bernie’s hold on her tighten as the significance of her words was heard and understood by Bernie who moved her head so she could reply...

  
“I love you too…Captain Dawson…” before Bernie met Alex’s lips half way and both stopped bothering to make themselves heard over the heavy beat of the music.  Not when each could understand the other so clearly through their kiss...


	2. Chapter 2

**SUNDAY, THE NEXT DAY...**

 

“A quiet coffee please.”

 

“What’s a quiet coffee?” asked Alex, not sure whether to be amused by Dom Copeland’s obvious struggle to cope with the world or alarmed that he potentially was going to be expecting patients to trust him.

 

“One which doesn’t have all the banging and roaring.” Dom turned carefully around to look at whoever it was that was rather rudely making noise at him, preparing to tell them to be quiet, only to see that it was Alex Dawson, looking far too happy.  “And stop making noise.”

 

“This isn’t noise.”  Alex stuck her hands into the pockets of her jeans and rocked forwards and backwards as she considered how sorry a specimen he actually was, only to stop swaying about when she saw him greying in an ominous fashion.  “This is conversation, which is the least you can expect to have to do during your shift.”

 

“Thanks.”  Dom was ignoring Alex, and the tiny voice in his head that was pointing out loudly that she was right, instead focussing on paying for his suitably quiet large Americano and not thinking about the muffins and pastries which wouldn’t sit well on his stomach.

 

“Two double espressos and two cappuccinos, extra shots please.”  Alex kept one eye on the young General Surgeon as she placed her order, wondering how he was going to react.

 

“Oh god…” At the sound of the barista banging out the used coffee grounds from the portafilter (Alex had always called it the thingy you put the ground coffee into but a very nervous patient had educated her in between anaesthesias) into the waste sink, Dom’s groan was almost fit for a Shakespearean tragedy.  Given that it was a large coffee machine and there was a queue forming behind Alex, the evidently confident and competent barista proceeded to bang out a further two portafilters so that all three were now being filled with freshly ground beans.  As the whole machine started to roar and hiss as the milk was steamed ready for the cappuccinos and, as an added bonus, the grinder worked away at its stock of beans, she caught Dom’s eye and attention.  “You’re a cruel woman.”

 

“Me?”  Alex attempted to look completely innocent although she could already hear Bernie’s laughter - apparently her innocent look was one of the guiltiest around.  “What have I done?”

 

“Noise!”  As if on cue, there was more banging as the portafilters were banged once more, clearing out the used grounds ready for the fresh ones needed to make Alex’s second double espresso.  Despite his real need to move away from the coffee machine before there was yet more bloody banging and his skull actually split, now he was actually talking to her, Dom was not that bothered about rushing off to Keller.

 

“Headache?” Alex smiled at the barista as she accepted the little cardboard tray that now had two normal sized cardboard cups in it and the two tiny by comparison cups that contained the double espressos.  It was something of a rhetorical question - you didn’t need a medical degree to work out that Dr Copeland had a hangover, nor did you need to be a mind reader to correctly guess that he’d probably enjoyed himself rather a lot in the process of getting it.

 

“Can you sound less…”

 

“Loud?”

 

“Happy.”  Dom followed Alex rather more carefully through the congested coffee shop space, only to discover that she was doing that bouncy swaying thing again by the time he stopped in front of her.  “Jaunty.”

 

“Late night clubbing was it?”  Alex saw Serena emerge from AAU clutching her wallet, only to pull a face when she saw the size of the queue for coffee, prompting Alex to shift slightly so she caught the consultant’s eye, raising the tray a little in the universal gesture of ‘panic not, got you covered’.  Relieved, Serena altered her course to join Alex and, more importantly, intercept the coffee.

 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

 

“Try me.”  Alex knew she shouldn’t be enjoying herself this much, but it was fun watching him battle with himself - did he recognise her as a more senior doctor who, more significantly, had the ear of a consultant and could get him sent home in semi-disgrace for not being fit for theatre?  Or, did he notice her boots, jeans and jumper and correctly guess that she wasn’t working a shift and could therefore be confided in like the friend he was clearly desperate to share something with.  “Cute was he?” she teased, knowing she’d hit the mark when he blushed rather sweetly, revealing that he’d definitely not shaved that morning.

 

“It wasn’t like that…” protested Dom, seeing Serena Campbell zeroing in on them and quickly trying to shake her off the topic.  Unfortunately Serena was quicker and he was slower than he’d anticipated and rather than trying to shut down the conversation with Alex, he’d only served to keep it going with Serena now joining in.

 

“What wasn’t?  And is one of those for me?”

 

“Dom’s clubbing cutie.  And take your pick.”  Actually, she hadn’t planned on getting Serena a coffee, but then she’d only planned on buying a coffee on the off-chance Bernie wasn’t in theatre and wanted it.  The order had then grown when she realised Dom’s predicament and the opportunity it presented for some ‘innocent’ fun.

 

“Lifesaver, thank you.”  Serena reached in and extracted a double espresso before looking at Dom.  “Blonde?  Ginger?”  She was rewarded with his look of confusion turning to one of horror.  “Not ginger then, not that there’s anything wrong with the redheaded members of society…”

 

“See?” hissed Dom, prodding Alex’s shoulder to emphasise his point as Serena distracted herself from their conversation by carefully removing the lid from the cup and starting to tentatively sip the hot, very strong coffee.  “This is you not understanding.”

 

“What is?”  As she helped him dig further into his rather amusing hole of entirely his own making, Alex and Serena instinctively stepped to the side to allow a patient in a wheelchair to be pushed past them.

 

“This.”  Dom pointed between them.  “Noise, mirth.  This is you not understanding.” He took a long sip of his coffee, savouring the feel of the caffeine seeping into his system, preparing to feel its magic start to work.

 

“Why can’t she understand?”  Serena rejoined the conversation, looking quizzically between them before looking back to Dom wondering, “can I understand?”  She wasn’t actually sure what they were talking about, but it was a lovely excuse to not have to go back onto the ward for another couple of minutes, by which point hopefully those rugby players in Curtain Four might have settled down a little bit - certainly Bernie hadn’t seemed unduly fazed by them.  “Tall, dark and handsome was he?” she guessed, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the almost squirming Dom, “I seem to remember that was your type.”

 

“Yes but…” Smiling tightly at Serena as if to acknowledge that yes, she had just scored an ace against him with her description of his new friend from last night, he tried to work out how he could escape without actually making his headache any more worse than the pings from the lifts already were.

 

“I hope it’s not an age related observation Dr Copeland,” continued Serena, taking over from Alex in the enjoyment stakes, the super-strong coffee working its magic.  “Just because a woman is over thirty…” She glared at him when he only just managed to convert his laughter into a poorly concealed burp, although judging by how he winced, she was satisfied he’d inflicted his own punishment, “...or forty...” she therefore conceded, looking towards Alex to pointedly include her in the observation, and therefore save Serena’s own blushes and a further qualification to ‘over fifty’.

 

“Of course not!” Eyes wide, Dom tried to smile an agreeable smile despite his ongoing discomfort both internally and with the whole situation, definitely not wanting to get on the wrong side of Ms Campbell who was definitely in a position to not turn a blind eye to his somewhat delicate condition if she felt like it.  “It’s not that!”  Unsure how to extract himself from what he now realised was a neatly excavated hole that he’d only himself to blame for being in, Dom slowly sipped his coffee, hoping Serena would let it drop.

 

“Then what is it?”  She didn’t, which left him still sipping his coffee and having to resort to the last chance option, which was to send a ‘help me’ look to Alex who, much to his relief, opened her mouth, clearly feeling she could say something helpful.

 

“Lesbians.”

 

Fortunately,  both Serena and Alex were nimble enough on their feet to avoid the spray of coffee that erupted when Dom registered that what Alex had actually said was far from helpful and, to his embarrassment now he’d heard her say it, completely true.

 

“Excuse me?”  Serena decided to ignore the small slip hazard and instead focus on Alex, hoping for an explanation.

 

“Lesbian relationships.”

 

“What’s that got to do with lover-boy’s tall, dark and handsome clubbing conquest?” Serena was quite proud of herself for that alliteration and sounded suitably triumphant as she said it.

 

“Nothing, literally.”  Alex, seeing Serena’s look of confusion, felt her defences crumble and helped herself to one of the cappuccinos, taking a long drink of it which, disappointingly, was almost entirely milk rather than coffee.  “We’re not supposed to do that.”

 

“Lover boys?  That makes some sort of sense…” Serena was trying to follow but was clearly making a bad job of it, judging by Alex’s expression.   Quickly dismissing the ‘tall, dark and handsome’ part of her summary, she realised she was left with… “Lesbians don’t go clubbing?”

 

“Or have conquests.”

 

“According to who?”  Serena didn’t like to go further and state that she was fairly certain that Bernie and Alex had probably met the definition of ‘conquest’ at some point in their cumulative relationship, at least not in front of Dom Copeland.  There were some cans of worms she was astute enough to recognise were best not opened in public.

 

“People.”

 

“They hug,” agreed Dom, nodding emphatically and quickly regretting it, a regret that made Keller and noisy patients feel soothing and relatively painless.  “And knit.” He heard the ping of an arriving lift and started sidling towards it,relieved to have an escape route.  “And drink fruit tea!” The lift doors closed as he gave them a little wave, leaving both women looking at him in a mix of surprise and amazement.

 

* * *

  
  


“Do you?”

 

“Do I what?” Alex looked sideways at Serena, wishing she’d asked Bernie more questions about how to read the other AAU consultant, having still not had all that much contact with Serena without Bernie being around to judge where her sense of humour lay.

 

“Knit.  I know you hug each other…” Serena pushed open the door onto AAU and held it open for Alex, taking another sip of her coffee as she did.

 

“Know how to knit?  I think so…”  Alex was struggling to follow Serena’s thread, or wool...

 

“Of course, so do I.  But that’s not what I asked.”

 

“No, we don’t have bags of wool and needles.”

 

“What are you talking about?”  Bernie, not having found the rugby players difficult to bring to order, came up behind them and decided, since Alex wasn’t working, that her jumper clad shoulder was an excellent chin rest.  “And is one of those for me?” she mumbled as she snaked one arm around Alex’s waist and the other reached forwards to hover by the tray of coffee cups.

 

“Cappuccino extra shot or double espresso…” Alex held the tray so the cappuccino she’d already taken a drink from was furthest away from Bernie.  “And yes, you can have both.”  Alex wasn’t surprised when she felt Bernie’s nose rub against her ear and a light pressure on her shoulder that could have been a briefly pressed kiss before Bernie let go of Alex and reached for the tray, leaving Alex barely enough time to rescue her own coffee.

 

“Knitting.”  Serena watched in fascination as Bernie carefully took the lids off the cappuccino and espresso cups, balancing them neatly in the empty slots of the tray before changing hands so she now held the tray with her right hand.  She then picked up the espresso and slowly poured the rich brown liquid into the milky cappuccino.  Just when she was about to ask why, given her right hand was her dominant hand when it came to surgery, Bernie was pouring with her left, Serena saw Bernie start to gently move the tray, meaning that the steady stream of poured espresso drizzled through the whole column of milk, effectively turning her cappuccino into something more uniformly milky and coffee flavoured.  Clearly this was something Bernie had done before...

 

“And fruit teas,” added Alex, trying to stay on topic rather than become distracted watching her lover’s hands move with the same confidence and certainty as they had last night…

 

“Why?”  Bernie hated fruit tea and, although she once upon a time had a girl guide badge that probably involved a bit of knit one,purl one output, she really didn’t feel that equated to actual knitting knowledge, competency or conversation.

 

“Lesbian Bed Death.”  Alex cleared her throat to stop herself from saying something she’d either regret or, more likely, get bested by Bernie with an even better quip.

 

“Ah.”  Bernie’s lips twitched and Alex saw her eyes narrow, a clear sign to Alex that whatever joke she might have been thinking of had been better off left unsaid as Bernie had just thought up two or three no doubt far better ones.  “Something you’d like to share Serena?”

 

“Yes.”  Serena might not be such an astute Bernie reader as Alex was, but she did have the presence of mind to notice Fletch heading in their direction, his arms full of files.  “Patient in Curtain Two…” She gestured in the appropriate direction with her nearly finished espresso.  “Could you take a look please?”

 

“Sure…” Bernie looked around for somewhere to put the now redundant cardboard tray and empty espresso cup, only to smile gratefully when Alex took it from her.  “Problem?”

 

“Concern.”  Serena caught Fletch’s eye, drawing him into the conversation.  “Can you find Curtain Two’s record and history for Bernie please?”

 

“Two ticks.”  Grinning and nodding as he passed, Fletch carried on to the nurses’ station and deposited the files on the counter before setting about restoring some order to his little corner of chaos, leaving the three of them in unexpected peace for a moment longer.

 

“It’s maybe wishful thinking but she’s 84, so if there’s a less invasive technique or treatment option I’m all ears.”

 

“I’ll take a look,” agreed Bernie easily, understanding Serena’s concern.  “Do I want to know why you were talking about this bed death thing with Dom?” she asked, able to make the question sound casual given she was also skimming the patient file Fletch had suddenly produced, surprising all of them, Fletch included.

 

“We weren’t, not specifically…” Alex sipped her cappuccino and finally tasted some coffee, much to her relief.  “He’s feeling a little delicate this morning…”

 

“Not surprised...” Bernie took a long, satisfying sip of her now rocket-fuel strength coffee.  “I’m beginning to understand.”

 

“You are?” Serena wasn’t sure if Bernie was talking about the patient or their conversation with Dom.

 

“Of course.”  And, with a smile and brief wink at Alex that said so much more and had Alex feeling warmed and alert in ways that no cappuccino ever could, Bernie strolled over to Curtain Two to try and work out another way of making Mrs Tulloch’s more immediate problems go away without giving her a longer list of new ones.

  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

****

“Ah, good.” Serena shut the office door behind her, glad of the peace and quiet of the office after the noise of the Ward.  “If one more person reminds it’s worse in the ED…”

 

“They’re keeping it clean at least,” pointed out Alex helpfully, putting aside Bernie’s iPad so that she could give Serena her full attention.  “Who are they?”

 

“Local weekend rugby team.”  Serena found enough energy to get to her own desk chair, turning on the desk light when she got there.  “Possible spinal damage but scans inconclusive.”  She looked up and met Alex’s calm and steady gaze, the anaesthetist knowing there was more to come.  “Patient’s conscious, possible concussion.” The fact that his team mates were helping to keep him both calm, distracted from his predicament and awake was worth bending the rules on visitors and as long as they stuck to family friendly lyrics the sing-a-long just added to the usual cacophony of AAU.  “Why are you still here?”

 

“Am I in the way?”

 

“No!”  Serena belated realised how her question had come across rather badly compared to her original meaning.  “Sorry.  I meant why are you not somewhere else less…”

 

“Hospital-like?”

 

“Yes.  You’re clearly not working today…”  Not that Alex hadn’t offered when she’d seen how busy AAU was but unusually, there was no shortage of anaesthetists.  Had Alex been a pair of theatre nurses or a junior surgeon or three able to actually complete basic surgical procedures without needing to be watched like hawks while having their noses wiped, Serena would have been accepting her offer in double quick time.  Therefore, she’d appointed herself coffee elf and general sounding board and so far, it seemed to have helped.

 

“Boiler died yesterday, not being repaired until tomorrow.”  Which, considering that they’d not actually remembered to ring anyone until late afternoon, was pretty decent they’d thought.  Then again, Alex wasn’t sure if their Army experiences had given them either undue tolerance of less than perfect living quarters or low expectations when it came to repairs.

 

“No hot water bottle?”

 

“She’s working for another few hours.”  Alex watched with interest as she saw Serena work out who she meant, which was obvious, and what she had inferred, which was rather more suggestive than she’d have ordinarily intended and an indication she was still somewhat rattled by the exchange with Dom earlier.

 

“He got to you.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Dom Copeland.”  Serena leaned back in her chair and startled to spin her pen through her fingers while she studied Alex’s expression, frustrated that she couldn’t read the anaesthetist at all.  Despite Bernie’s expressions being more subtle than Alex’s often were, Serena knew the surgeon much better after working in theatre and on AAU with her for a few months now - it wasn’t much, but it was enough to recognise when an operation wasn’t going to plan or a patient was amusing or concerning.

 

“Not exactly…” Alex met Serena’s gaze with one of her own before deciding that Serena wasn’t her enemy, remembering that earlier she’d actually joined Alex’s side of the discussion just on principle without even knowing what they were talking about.  “He’s merely the latest in a long line of people to get to me.”

 

“About?”  Serena was surprised to see how cross Alex was seeming about something that obviously meant a lot to her.  “And don’t tell me I wouldn’t understand!”

 

“It’s…” Alex, to her surprise, now she had permission to vent to someone who was positively insisting they wanted her to share, was finding it hard to know where to begin.  “You need to forget that Dom Copeland works here.”

 

“What’s that got to do with it?”

 

“Just promise me that you won’t go charging up to Keller…” Alex saw Serena’s eyes glance at both the telephone on her desk and her computer, prompting Alex to smirk and amend her statement.  “Or do anything that might make someone on Keller decide they know enough about last night to act differently around Dom.”  She knew she was being borderline paranoid, after all Serena’s contribution to the conversation by the lifts indicated she had enough prior knowledge of his social life to be able to make a very educated guess, but Alex still wanted the assurance.

 

“I promise.”  Although she sounded sincere, Serena’s expression gave the impression she was still skeptical.

 

“Dom’s feeling fragile because he was out clubbing until gone 3 this morning, then enjoyed himself with a tall, dark and evidently handsome Commando friend of my brother’s.”

 

“Does he know?”

 

“Who know what?”

 

“Does Dom know his…” Serena spun the pen around in her fingers a couple of times while she sorted out the word she felt she could use with the most neutral expression, “...’playmate’ is a Commando friend of your brother’s?”

 

“I imagine it would be hard to miss that Hari’s a Marine, or at least a soldier.”  Alex ran her right hand up her left bicep and across the top of her chest, illustrating the areas she was talking about as she continued, “he’s rather proud of the Corps and has the tattoos to prove it.”

 

“I see.”  Serena’s eyebrow twitched as she had a decidedly less than professional or charitable thought about Dom’s eyesight in low levels of illumination that, on balance, was best left unsaid.  “And your brother?”

 

“Also a Marine, and Bernie’s the one who’d know if he’s got any tattoos.”  Alex almost laughed when she saw Serena’s expression lurch between distaste and curiosity.  “He came in on an Evac with me one day, walking wounded...she gave him a thorough once over to stop me going all big sister on him.”

 

“Not the done thing?” guessed Serena, knowing nothing about Alex’s brother but imagining it would probably be severely damaging to a Marine’s respect to have his big sister taking his pulse and shining a torch in his mouth.

 

“Not the done thing,” confirmed Alex, shaking away the other part of the memory, the part where she was actually unable to do the exam even if she’d been allowed to as the shock of finding her brother in the middle of the battlefield caught up with her.  Admittedly, Matty hadn’t been entirely unaffected about seeing his big sister in the middle of his medical evac under fire either.

 

“So…” Serena tried to prompt Alex into continuing with her explanation when, after a moment, it seemed the story wasn’t going to automatically tumble forth from the anaesthetist.

 

“So?”

 

“So what’s Dom’s one night stand got to do with you being a grump?”  Serena, bored with the pen as a fiddling distraction, tossed it back onto her desk.  “And how do you know about it?”

 

“We were there.”

 

“We?  Your brother and you?”

 

“Not exactly… I probably should explain from the almost beginning...”

 

* * *

  
  


_“....ok?”  Alex looked up at the nurse, whose name she didn’t know, as she felt her phone vibrate in her scrubs pocket._

 

_“Thanks Doctor.”  Double checking the orders, the nurse closed the file and put it on the bed between the still sleepy patient and prepared to start pushing the bed with the porter back to the Ward._

 

_“I’ll come find you in a few minutes,” promised Alex, trying to remember the name of the Ward the patient was going back to.  “Corbett wasn’t it?”_

 

_“Yes Doctor.”_

 

_Alex watched the nurse and porter leave with the patient, wondering not for the first time whether it was such a good idea to have named all the wards after, as far as she could tell, comedians...laughter was good medicine, but not always immediately post-op.  Still, as she turned away from the doors and pulled out her phone to see what the alert had been for, hospitals had to call the wards something, and at least it was memorable._

 

_Smiling when she saw it was a text message from Bernie, she opened it only to frown when she read the short message and, as instructed, hit the speed dial for her lover’s mobile._

 

_“What’s up?” she asked the moment she heard the rings stop._

 

_“Hello to you too!”  As she spoke, Bernie switched off the iron and put it to one side before swapping her phone to her other hand.  “I wasn’t expecting a call this quick.”_

 

_“Just finished in theatre…”  Alex ran her fingers through her hair, scratching her head as she tried to dissuade the headache she could feel starting to form from settling.  “And yes, there are showers here I can use before I come home…” Alex was doing a rare shift at St James’ - she generally tried not to take locum shifts there if at all possible since she did not want to ever risk crossing paths with Marcus.  However, since Bernie’s relationship with Ronnie and Charlie had improved in the last few months, she had started doing the occasional shift there if they came up during the weeks when Ronnie knew Marcus was abroad.  “Why?”_

 

_“I couldn’t fix the boiler.”  Alex could hear the defeat in Bernie’s voice, knowing that she’d been full of confidence that nothing as mundane as a stubborn boiler could defeat her.  “It needs a part…” That was the difference between surgery and plumbing as far as Bernie was concerned - in theatre, if she asked for a scalpel there was one; with the boiler, she’d diagnosed the need for a new pump but there wasn’t a scrub nurse to pass her one.  “The plumber’s coming day after tomorrow with one...”_

 

_“I’ll take the day off if you like?”  Alex couldn’t remember what Bernie’s shift pattern was when she started her next block tomorrow.  “I’m only here today.”  Sometimes Alex found herself scheduled with plenty of notice to work a fortnight in the same hospital department, locum cover needed while an anaesthetist was on leave, but lots of her shifts were odd days at short notice if someone was sick or a department found themselves overstretched.  That she never took longer blocks of work at St James only made it harder for her to establish the hospital’s geography in her head, forcing her to set off in search of some signs or, better yet, a map._

 

_“Should be ok, I’m on lates for a bit.”  Bernie looked around the sitting room, noticing the stuff she needed to tidy away before Alex’s brother arrived.  “Matt’s train is on time, I’ll meet him at the station...he’s said something about a party?”  Bernie hadn’t really understood his text, but that was mainly because it seemed to be assuming Alex had told her something which Bernie couldn’t remember._

 

_“I forgot to tell you…” Alex came to a halt by a map and caught her lip between her teeth as she tried to work out how to get to Corbett Ward - that was the problem with this hospital, everything was not quite where she expected it to be, although talking with Bernie’s son Ronnie it was at least comforting to know she wasn’t the only one to struggle.  Unfortunately, before she could continue her explanation or work out where she was supposed to go, the pager she’d been issued went off.  “I’m on ED cover, being paged.”  Fortunately, Bernie didn’t need to be told anymore, she understood._

 

_“Go.”_

 

_After hearing the call end, Bernie was about to put her phone away and resume her ironing when she changed her mind and instead, finding Matt’s earlier text message updating her with his train time, fired off a quick text.  If Alex was on ED cover, she was going to be busy for the next couple of hours probably, which was practically the rest of her shift.  Matt on the other hand, was sat on a train...he had plenty of time to explain about this party to her._

 

* * *

  
  


“Sorry…” Serena put the phone back down and gave her attention back to Alex, shaking her out of her mini daydream.  “...crisis averted.  What’s it like at St James’?  Are they as good as they try to claim?”  Serena had forgotten, until Alex had mentioned that yesterday’s shift had been at Holby’s ‘local rival’, that Alex now had increasing amounts of experience of working in all of the local hospitals - it was too easy to think of ‘Dr D’ as ‘theirs’ but of course, she wasn’t.

 

“I’m not spying for Holby General.”  Alex tried to sound indignant but merely managed to be amused at the idea.  “I do most shifts at St Austin’s anyway…” Just when she was wondering how she explained her preference to have a fifty mile commute rather than a fifteen minute bus ride, there was a knock at the door and Fletch stuck his head in.

 

“Yes Fletch?”

 

“Message from Ms Wolfe…” Serena’s eyebrow twitched at his sudden formality - Fletch was normally rather good at picking and choosing his moments to not stand on ceremony.  “Unless you’d rather take her traumatic splenectomy and crushed ribs with emergency appendectomy  in Theatre Two, could you please take a look at Mrs Jeethan in Curtain Three now her test results are back.”  

 

“Did she really say all that?”

 

“I might have paraphrased,” agreed Fletch, looking hopefully at Serena.  “What can I tell her?”

 

“Enjoy her ribs, I’ll look at Mrs Jeethan’s test results…” agreed Serena, standing up and looking at Alex.  “You still owe me an explanation,” she added, mistakenly thinking Alex’s look of unexpected relief was due to her being let off the hook in terms of telling Serena why she’d let Dom get to her.

 

“Not going anywhere,” promised Alex, shifting in Bernie’s desk chair and adjusting the arms again so she was more comfortable.  At least when Serena came back for the next installment of the story, she’d have forgotten about St James’.

 

“Feel free to supervise an F1 or two…” joked Serena as she headed out onto the ward, leaving the door ajar as if to tempt Alex out.  “...right Fletch, let’s see these test results….”

 

Smiling at Serena’s obviousness, Alex waited until the Consultant was over in Curtain Three and concentrating on Mrs Jeethan and her family before she stood up and headed to the door, which she pushed gently shut, muffling the noise of AAU once more.

 

Settling back down in Bernie’s chair, she reached for the iPad and returned to looking at the various photos they’d taken between the three of them, most of them it seemed taken by Matt from the moment she’d got back to the flat from the hospital….

 

* * *

 

 

_“Hello?”  Alex shut the front door behind her and dumped her bag on the floor, before taking off her coat and hanging it along with her scarf on the hooks behind the door.  There were four hooks, and on the third one from the left there was a big, bulky fleece-lined jacket that was far bigger than anything she or Bernie would wear, which could only mean Matt was here already._

 

 _“Kitchen…” Bernie knew it wasn’t really necessary to call out where she was - the flat was not exactly large and, since there were no lights on in the sitting room and the kitchen was nearer the front door than their bedroom, Alex would have found her anyway, but it was a habit she’d formed at some point in the last few months and found she was liking it.  “Mmm…” She felt Alex’s hands slipping around her waist, her shirt providing little insulation against her cold fingers.  This was another habit she was liking.  “Hello…” She’d meant to immediately tell Alex about Matt being in the shower despite the lack of hot water, about him persuading her that they should go to this_ ‘ _party’ he was actually in Holby for, meant to ask Alex about her shift but that was all forgotten about when she felt Alex’s cold fingers sketch a vague circle on her stomach as warm lips landed on her neck.  Keeping her wet hands in the sink of water so she didn’t cover Alex in dishwater, Bernie angled her body away from the sink and dipped her head so she could eventually catch her lover’s lips with her own in a lazy, languid kiss._

 

_“Hi…” Licking her lips slightly self consciously, Alex pulled back from Bernie and let her now much warmer fingers drop from the surgeon’s waist. Seeing the dishcloth on the counter, Alex picked it up, intending to start to dry the dishes Bernie was washing up.  “Saw Matt’s coat in the hall…”_

 

_“He’s having a shower.”  As Bernie passed a plate to Alex to dry, she chuckled at her expression.  “Apparently Marines don’t need hot water.”_

 

_“Right…” Rolling her eyes, Alex started to dry the plate.  “Was he ok?  With you?”  As a general rule, Alex wasn’t really aware of the decade or so age difference between her and Bernie, but she was acutely conscious that at thirteen years older than her little brother, he was only a couple of years older than Ronnie.  Also, depending what sort of a mood he was in, he sometimes could be very much ‘one of the ranks’ who didn’t want to have anything to do with the ‘officers’ unless he absolutely had to.  The combination of the two could, in Alex’s mind, create all manner of tensions if her brother and girlfriend had to spend too much time together without a third person as a distraction._

 

_“He was fine.”  Bernie passed across the next plate and took the opportunity of Alex’s hands being occupied with dishcloth and plate to blob some soapsuds onto the end of her girlfriend’s nose to help keep the mood light.  “He’s settled into his stripes I think…” Bernie plunged her hands back into the cold water and concentrated on finding the teaspoons and fork that had to be lurking somewhere in the bottom of the sink, giving Alex a moment to de-sud her nose.  “He seems to be enjoying being a Sergeant and he was managing to call me Bernie.  I think it helped that I introduced myself to his mates as a civilian.”_

 

_“Hari and Jako?” guessed Alex, trying to remember what Matt had told her about the reason for his unexpected one night stay with them.  “You met them at the station?”_

 

_“Yes.”  Spoons and fork found, Bernie pulled the plug out of the sink.  “They all did basic training together?  With this friend who’s got the…” Bernie tried to remember what the lads had referred to it as, “...thing tonight?”  Bernie passed the cutlery to Alex before reaching for the towel to dry her hands._

 

_“Ro...can’t remember what it’s short for…” Alex was certain she’d known at some point, but she couldn’t remember what his full first name was now.  “He’s the DJ tonight.”_

 

_“I thought that was someone called Bats?”_

 

_“Batz…” Alex tossed aside the dishcloth and didn’t object when Bernie’s fingers caught in the pockets of her jeans and pulled her closer.  “His Marine nickname...think it started as short for ‘Bat Shit Crazy’ or something…” Alex knew she didn’t need to explain how a military nickname came about or that it generally stuck the moment a recruit did something the other teenagers in their basic training group found memorable or amusing, as Bernie was as familiar with addressing soldiers by their nicknames as she was their ranks or given names, if the situation warranted it.  “Think it became Batz it when he became the radio operator.”_

 

_“He’s retired?”  Bernie hadn’t liked to pry when Matt and his friends had talked about Ro’s Marine experiences in the past tense, especially when it had felt like Matt had been including her in the anecdotes like it was a shared experience._

 

_“Medical discharge…”  Alex swallowed thickly as she was suddenly reminded of one particular day, one particular evac.  “He was the one we went to get, when Matt was walking wounded.  You operated...”_

 

_“Ah.”  There wasn’t anything else that needed to be said, at least, nothing that couldn’t be better expressed by Bernie using words instead of just pulling Alex into a hug._

 

* * *

  
  


“That’s a lovely photo…” Serena hadn’t realised Alex hadn’t heard her come into the office again until she saw how much she’d made the anaesthetist jump, her reflex instinct being slamming the cover shut on the iPad.  “Sorry…” Serena shut the door behind her and moved round to her side of the double desk, “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

“It’s fine.”  Alex forced herself to smile at the surgeon before deliberately opening the iPad cover again and looking at the picture of Bernie leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter, her arms around Alex as she gave her a hug, both completely oblivious to the picture being taken.  “And yes, it seems Matty’s got a second career as paparazzi if he wants it.”  She knew she shouldn’t really be cross with him, especially as the pictures he’d taken of them were, as Serena pointed out, lovely.  And, now she really thought about it, it wasn’t quite true to say they’d had no idea he was taking them: based on the ones she’d looked at earlier of Bernie that he’d taken before Alex had got home, Bernie definitely knew he’d found her phone on the counter and wasn’t minding him taking pictures, but also, now she thought about it, Alex realised she’d been vaguely aware of the camera flash at times.

 

“He’s your younger brother?” Serena remembered some passing comments that Bernie had made about him, but hadn’t always been entirely paying attention.

 

“Thirteen years younger…” She saw Serena’s eyes widen at the age difference.  “We were both surprises, him more of the miracle sort, me of the curse…”  Alex shrugged when she saw Serena’s expression develop further into one of concern, like she’d perhaps ventured somewhere she shouldn’t have gone.  “Different fathers.  Mum loved Matty’s Dad…”  Alex paused as she silently completed the potted family history with the succinct summary of her ‘father’.  “Matty joined the Marines as soon as he could.”

 

“Were you already in the Army by then?”

 

“Yes, just completing my anaesthetist’s training.” Alex laughed hollowly when she remembered seeing him the first time after he’d completed his basic training when their paths had crossed on some base somewhere.  “He did not like having to salute me as an Officer...he thought it would ruin his street cred with his mates.”

 

“Did it?”

 

“Apparently not - being a doctor made me appropriately ‘cool’.”  Alex cleared her throat, not wanting to think about what was now ancient history.  “We get on alright now, and he likes Bernie.”  She probably needed to send him a text thanking him for taking the photos - they didn’t have all that many of themselves together, nor had they had any pictures of each other from before...but he’d taken some great ones, particularly of Bernie who was a nightmare to take pictures of.  That he’d managed to take some pictures of her when she was relaxed and amused, rather than glaring at the camera or trying to hide was further proof that the two people who meant more than anyone else to Alex were genuinely becoming at ease in each others’ company.

 

“So this clubbing conquest of Dr Copland’s…” began Serena, picking up her pen and starting to spin it around her fingers again, finding she could put some of the pieces of the puzzle together, “is a Marine friend of your brother’s?”

 

“Hari…” Alex put the iPad down again, wanting to save the rest of the pictures to look at a bit later.  “He’s a sweet kid…” Alex grinned when she saw Serena’s look of disbelief, forcing her to qualify her statement.  “...in a highly trained lethal soldier type way.  All three of them were.”

 

“Three?”  Serena thought she’d been following but now realised she’d lost the thread of the conversation.  “You’ve lost me.”

 

“My fault.”  Alex shifted so she was in a new, less uncomfortable position in Bernie’s chair, adjusting the arms of the chair again so she could tuck her foot under her while she backtracked to the bit of the story she’d skipped.  “Matt and two friends, Hari and Jako, came to Holby yesterday in order to go to the big club night, up at the…” Alex realised she didn’t actually know the name of the big music club venue that they’d been to but was relieved to see from Serena’s face that she knew where Alex was talking about and so just carried on with the short version of her story.  “They have been mates since they joined the Marines, along with Ro.”  Alex swallowed and felt in her pocket for some chewing gum or sweets as she’d long since finished her coffee.  “Who is no longer on active duty.”  As euphemisms went, it wasn’t very oblique, but it felt kinder than just blurting out the truth.

 

“He's in the Reserves?  Like you?” checked Serena, realising she wasn’t actually that clear on how people finished their careers in the military, with Bernie’s situation being somewhat vague and Alex being the only other person she knew.

 

“Medically discharged.”  Alex found her packet of chewing gum and, after offering the packet to Serena as a courtesy, not surprised when she declined, Alex popped a piece in her mouth and chewed distractedly for a moment.  “Their patrol was attacked and pinned down.  It was a busy day and we were a little slow in getting him out.”  There was something about the way Alex said ‘they’ and ‘we’ that, coupled with her earlier comment about Bernie being able to answer whether Matt had any tattoos or not, made Serena decide not to ask any more questions, but just put together whatever picture she could from the fragments Alex did share.  “He’s done really well, considering...always had a good ear for music, knew what songs to play to get people making fools of themselves after a few drinks”  She chewed mechanically on her gum for a second or two, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere to the side of Serena’s left ear but Serena was certain that what Alex was seeing was quite different.  “Anyway…” Alex cleared her throat again and looked Serena in the eye, a faint smile starting to appear as she brought herself back to the present and memories no older than last night.  “He got some grants and support to buy some kit and is now making a bit of a name for himself as a DJ.  DJ Batz…”

 

“I saw some posters about him…” Of everything Alex had been going to say, that wasn’t quite what Serena had expected.  “Last week?  I was stuck in traffic on the ring road, they were tied to the traffic lights on the roundabout by….” As she prepared to try and explain precisely where she was, she saw the amusement in Alex’s eyes and realised how meaningless her description was going to be to the definitely not local anaesthetist.  “So your brother and his friends came to see him?”

 

“Yeah - he’s got a bit of a tour happening, but this was the most convenient one given their leave.  That and Matty could get me to buy them dinner.”  Actually, Bernie had paid, but that wasn’t the point.

 

“Once a little brother….”

 

“Something like that.”  It was on the tip of Alex’s tongue to ask Serena how she’d got on with her siblings before suddenly remembering Bernie explaining that Jason had been a recent and somewhat unexpected arrival in the other surgeon’s life. Siblings, she decided, was probably not a safe topic of conversation for the consultant.

 

“So you went?” Serena was happy to move on from the topic of siblings, not sure how much Alex knew from Bernie about her own sibling situation.  “How was it?”

 

“Good…” Alex was about to add more when they were interrupted by Raf tapping on the glass and Serena saw she was wanted back out on the ward.  “Bernie still in theatre?” Alex thought she’d seen Raf’s name on the list as assisting her, so was slightly surprised to see the Registrar back on the Ward without her.

 

“Yes.”  Serena stood up and prepared to go back out.  “That was my five minutes peace and quiet… it’s turned into a busy one.”  So busy that she’d had to ask Bernie if she could cope in theatre on her own so that Raf could come back onto the Ward as Serena had suddenly found herself rather overstretched.  

  
  


It was only after Serena had shut the door behind her that Alex noticed the time, amazed that it had been a couple of hours since Serena’s last ‘five minutes of peace and quiet’ before Fletch had offered her the choice of Bernie’s operation or keeping the Ward moving.  Not entirely believing the time, Alex reached for Bernie’s iPad again, only to see the battery was almost dead.  Even if she’d misremembered the time earlier, the depleted battery was definite confirmation that, not only had the time flown, but she’d evidently spent much of it staring into space while looking at the photos.Smothering a yawn, Alex rubbed her gritty eyes and decided she better go for a walk outside to try and wake herself up - the lack of sleep was starting to catch up on her, explaining her real reluctance to muck in and help out the AAU team, rather than her claim that Serena didn’t need an anaesthetist.  As she searched through her girlfriend’s inevitably messy desk drawer for the charging cable for the iPad, Alex wondered how Bernie was coping before reminding herself that Bernie had worked shifts far longer on less sleep and no coffee more than once.  Just when her argumentative side was going to point out that this shift probably also had fewer adrenaline buzzes than a shift in a conflict zone, she remembered that Bernie had been off yesterday and only drunk water last night…all of which was irrelevant because ultimately, if Bernie was in theatre it was because she knew she was fit to be in theatre.

  
  


Scribbling a note to Bernie which she left on the computer keyboard next to the now charging iPad, Alex dug into her pocket and checked she had enough change for another coffee if that was what she fancied.  Satisfied that she did, she set off for a walk via the coffee shop, wondering if she could remember the way to that garden Bernie had taken her to back in June, what was it?  Alex stepped to the side to let a porter wheel a patient past on a bed, evidently just coming back from scan while she tried to remember...the Memorial Garden?  No, that was Austin’s, and she’d never quite worked out what memory it was commemorating, certainly not one that was quiet or peaceful based on the noise….Ah, that was it, the Peace Garden.  Now she could remember the name of it, finding it would be a doddle as, like most hospitals, Holby General was positively littered with signs.  They weren’t always meaningful, but at least they were informative...and if necessary, she’d ask someone.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ah ha!”  Smiling, Serena watched as Bernie headed over to the nurse’s station, holding a cup of water in one hand and her phone in the other.  “You’re back.”

 

“That sounds suspiciously like you missed me and are about to volunteer me for something,” observed Bernie cautiously, scanning the Ward and automatically noting which patients were new admissions since she’d gone into theatre and which appeared to be settling in for a long stay.  “How’s our Hooker?”

 

“Excuse me?” Serena looked at Fletch, wondering if he knew what Bernie was talking about, only to see he was as lost as her.

 

“Rugby player, curtain four last time I checked?”  Although now, looking across at that bed in question, it did seem to be free of mud spattered men.

 

“Darwin took him.”  Serena winced, realising Bernie hadn’t yet heard the news.  “Conclusive scans came back.  He may get lucky…” She was about to add more about how some people managed to recover from certain types of spinal injury with little to no long term effects when she saw Bernie rubbing her neck, a gesture that suddenly took on new meaning to Serena when she remembered how she’d first met Alex.  “Wait and see job for the moment.”

 

“I see.”  If Bernie noticed Serena’s sudden epiphany, she didn’t mention it, but moved on to another patient that she’d had lurking at the back of her mind while she operated.  “Mrs Jeethan?”

 

“Inconclusive - her son arrived and we made better progress after that.  Turns out she was visiting her twin sister but lives up near Derby.  They agreed to take her since whatever it is, we’ll probably only find it after a period of monitoring.  Ambulance left with both sisters and the son a couple of hours ago.”  Poor bloke, thought Serena, not envying his task over the next few days - his mother and aunt had proven to be a formidable if confused pair of elderly ladies, with his mother’s unexpected collapse not being easily explained.  When it was clear that there was nothing immediate that AAU could either treat or repair, and with the patient herself reluctant to stay in Holby, they’d been fortunate enough to come up with a plan as to how to proceed, especially when it became apparent that the twin sister was liable to give herself a stroke with worry.

 

“How did you work that miracle?” asked Bernie, impressed.

 

“I didn’t.  The son’s a consultant and pulled some strings.”  Somewhat irregular, but it made sense in the grand scheme of things as by getting his mother and aunt back to his ‘home’ hospital, at least his clinical service wouldn’t descend into chaos as he tried to spread himself between his filial and medical duties.  “It did make our lives easier though,” admitted Serena, too pragmatic to really object.

 

“I can imagine.  Sounds like you don’t need me then,” declared Bernie, giving another quick glance around the Ward and not seeing anything to suggest things weren’t calm and under control.  She already knew her patient was being settled in the side room by Raf, who’d met her at the end of the operation to take over, enabling a relieved Bernie to go and have a quick shower.   It had been an unusual operation, even by her rather extensive experience, with a severe but ultimately ‘text-book’ car crash casualty having their abdominal trauma complicated by their appendix rupturing at the same time.  Suffice to say, it would be a while before the patient was up and about again, minus both their spleen and appendix.

 

“We coped…” Pride had Serena agreeing without even thinking but reason quickly followed, knowing that if Bernie hadn’t been able to complete the majority of that operation on her own (Serena wasn’t yet prepared to start counting the newest F1 intake as whole surgeons, being probably not much more use to Bernie than occasional clamp holders), enabling Serena and Raf to be dealing with the rest of AAU, they would have had quite a different shift experience.  She was about to acknowledge this point properly when she was distracted by a growl that appeared to be originating from Bernie’s stomach and a rather impressive yawn.  “You want to grab something to eat?”  Serena didn’t think Bernie would take too kindly to her suggesting a nap.  “Surgeon cannot operate on coffee alone?”

 

“Ten minutes?” Bernie glanced at the time on her phone, surprised to see how near she was to the end of her shift, and how long it was since she’d got her super-strength coffee from Alex.

 

“Twenty if you like…” Serena looked over to their office, expecting to see Alex.  “Alex was around somewhere…”

 

“Thanks.  Get you one?” offered Bernie, thinking she’d see if she could grab a cake or something as well as a coffee, not sure she could face a hospital sandwich now.

 

“Surprise me…” Which, realised Serena as she watched Bernie disappear into their shared office,  was something Bernie was doing more and more often these days as gradually, old wounds presumably continued to heal and the combination of work on AAU and Alex, but probably mostly Alex, helped the ‘real’ Bernie Wolfe emerge.  Watching Bernie reemerge from their office, presumably having found some money in her desk, Serena gave herself a shake and reached for the next patient file - just because they were quieter than they had been a couple of hours ago, didn’t mean she didn’t still have patients to see.

 

“Fletch?  Have the test results come back for Mr Aims?” 

 

* * *

  
  


“Hello you...”  Hearing Bernie’s voice, Alex turned her head towards the surgeon, her breath misting in the cold night air as she stayed leaning against the arm of the bench.  “You’re still here…”

 

“Mmm…” Alex hugged herself as she waited for Bernie to get closer, not quite sure what she was still doing outside in the cold, but at least knowing the answer to the broader question.  “Thought I’d take my hot water bottle out to dinner.”

 

“Have I forgotten something?”  Bernie was confident it was the wrong season for Alex’s birthday, they hadn’t yet worked out what date to nominally claim as their anniversary, she’d celebrated her children’s birthdays not that long ago and her own birthday was not something she was particularly fussed about but it wasn’t today either.  So, while she had no idea what it might be, she was astute enough to realise that there may be something else she’d overlooked and realistic enough to be prepared to admit to her forgetfulness.

 

“Broken boiler?” prompted Alex, standing up and taking off her jacket which she then held out for Bernie to take.

 

“Is that a relationship milestone that requires celebrating?”  Bernie took the jacket from Alex when she shook it but didn’t put it on, completely confused by her girlfriend’s actions and conversation.  “I’d assumed the ritual sacrificial offering happened when the plumber gave us the bill…”

 

“Put the coat on Bern,” encouraged Alex, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as she grinned at the surgeon’s bad joke.  “You’re only wearing scrubs,” she reminded, only lately coming to realise how reliant on uniform rules and ingrained military discipline Bernie generally was when it came to what she wore - it seemed that the same part of her which had been able to ignore the hottest Afghan Summer’s day in full kit was also able to ignore a Holby winter’s night when only wearing her scrub shirt.  Presumably the long sleeved top she’d been wearing under her scrubs earlier had disappeared into her locker or, more probably, the discarded scrubs bin in the locker room.  That, realised Alex, was the other thing Bernie wasn’t yet fully adjusted to - every last piece of your Army kit had your name on it so, no matter where you lost it on a Base, it got back to you eventually.  The same was not true of the Holby laundry services.

 

“Shift over then.”  Pulling on Alex’s fleece lined climbing jacket, Bernie leaned against the arm of the bench and held the jacket open and away from her sides, encouraging Alex to wrap her arms around Bernie’s waist and generally snuggle into her.  “Better?” she asked, rubbing her hands up and down Alex’s back.

 

“Mmm.”  Alex kissed the bottom of Bernie’s neck, where the scrub shirt v-neck ended.  “Thank you.”  She kissed Bernie’s jaw, intending to work her way round to her girlfriend’s lips, only to be met part way by Bernie, who tasted of sugar and raspberry jam, which wasn’t a flavour Alex normally associated with her.  “You hate raspberry jam…” she mumbled, the mystery of the unexpected taste on Bernie’s lips was momentarily more distracting than the lips themselves.

 

“Jam doughnuts.”  Bernie could make out Alex’s look of bemusement in the light being cast by the streetlight at the other end of the bench.  “It was that or mystery Danish pastry.”

 

“How big a mystery?”

 

“I couldn’t decide if it was a Cornish Pasty or an Apple Turnover.”  Bernie licked her lips, suddenly aware of the lingering stickiness, only for Alex to help her out.

 

“Al…” mumbled Bernie after a few languid kisses, her nagging worry that she’d forgotten something that would explain her girlfriend’s intention to take her out to dinner returning despite one of Alex’s more reliable distraction methods.

 

“You…” Alex indulged herself with one final kiss before taking Bernie out of her misery.   “...didn’t forget anything.”  Alex shifted her weight slightly so she wasn’t leaning as heavily against Bernie but still well wrapped up inside the jacket, amused by Bernie’s raised eyebrow which clearly suggested she didn’t believe Alex in the slightest.  “I just thought you’d enjoy a curry in a warm restaurant.”  Since the summer, Bernie and Alex had been seeing rather more of Ronnie and Charlie, when it wasn’t university term time.  This not only saw them generally getting to know each other without the Dunn family anti-Army agenda causing confusion and conflict, but had significantly improved Bernie and Alex’s knowledge of local restaurants and take-aways as Ronnie quickly set about showing them where the ‘hidden gems’ were, including several places that were still open when their shifts finished close to midnight.

 

“Curry sounds good…” Bernie’s stomach obligingly rumbled in agreement, the jam doughnuts clearly only a temporary solution.  “Pint sounds lovely.  Did the boys get their train?”  Bernie had woken up long enough to say goodbye to Matt and wish him well for the train journey back to his Base before going back to bed and getting another two hours of sleep, doubling her total sleep for the ‘night’ before then heading for the hospital.  Alex had meanwhile gone out with him to have some breakfast and then met up with his friends before their lunchtime train.

 

“Yes.”  Alex chuckled as she remembered Hari’s bleary eyed half asleep goodbye as he woke up just enough for Jako and Matt to steer him across the road from the pub to the station and onto their train.  “How are you holding up?”   Alex studied her girlfriend’s face intently, looking past the familiar crooked smile and half closed eyes confirming Bernie’s amusement and trying to see how dark the shadows were, how much of her energy was fueled by adrenalin, caffeine and sugar, feeling guilty.

 

“I’m fine.”  Bernie’s grin only grew when she saw Alex’s frustration.  “I enjoyed it.”  She nudged Alex’s frowning forehead with her own as she started to tease a pattern on Alex’s warm back, having finally found a way through the layers she was wearing.  “A lot.”  Unfortunately, just when she might have been about to say something else, she was surprised by a yawn, although it was a small one.  “But maybe just sleep tonight?” she teased, confident despite the shadowy low light that she’d managed to make Alex blush.  “And less noise?”

 

“I’m…” 

 

Before Bernie could find out if Alex was going to agree with her plan or apologise, they both felt the buzzing mobile phone in Bernie’s trouser pocket a split second before it started ringing.  While it was tempting to ignore it, to hope it was a wrong number or a cold calling sales pitch, both knew that it wasn’t going to be.  Therefore, before it had finished the third buzz, Alex had fished the phone out of Bernie’s pocket and handed it to her, the illuminated screen bright and clearly displaying that it was the ED calling.

 

“Wolfe.”  Alex knew from Bernie’s expression that whatever it was, it wasn’t a quick phone consult and started to step back, only for Bernie’s arm to hold her firmly in place.  “Who’s on scene?”  Alex felt the muscles in Bernie’s arm relax again when Alex stopped trying to pull out of the embrace.  Not sure what was going on but understanding that whatever it was Bernie, for another moment or two at least, wanted company and contact, Alex wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s hips and rested her head against Bernie’s shoulder.  “No, I understand.”  Under her fingers, Alex felt the muscles in Bernie’s back shift as she felt neck muscles tense and release under her cheek - whatever the situation was, it was one that exercising Bernie’s control.  “I know where you mean.  How long?”  Bernie’s arm moved away from Alex’s back and, without needing to look, Alex could tell Bernie was lifting her watch to her eyeline so she could note the time it showed currently and therefore what time it would show when she needed to have arrived wherever it was.  “No, that’s fine.  I’ll be there.”  Bernie ended the phone call and closed her eyes as she, phone still in hand, gave Alex one final tight squeezing hug.

 

“You’re needed by ED.”  It was a statement, not a question, Alex preparing to stand up and give Bernie the space she needed to stand up and rush off the moment she was ready.

 

“There’s a police car coming to take me to the scene.”  Bernie rubbed Alex’s back one final time and let her arm drop, all the signal Alex needed to stand up and let her go, after dropping a featherlight kiss on the nearest bit of bare Bernie which was a collarbone that tasted strangely of make-up.  “Seems the ED team on site need reinforcements”  Bernie put her phone back in her pocket and, as they started walking steadily but quickly back to the hospital building, she took off Alex’s coat and passed it to her, oblivious to the goosebumps that immediately formed on her bare arms.  What she wasn’t oblivious to however, was Alex’s slightly puzzled licking of her lips.  “Yes it’s make-up.”  Despite the gravity of the situation that she was about to be rushed to, Bernie had time to smirk in Alex’s direction as she reached up and pulled aside the neck of her scrub shirt, the hospital light pollution now enough to enable Alex to see what Bernie wasn’t talking about.

 

“Oh.”  Blushing, Alex suddenly became very focussed on her boots and matching Bernie’s pace step for step, embarrassed that she’d neither stopped herself last night, or rather, this morning, nor that she’d remembered.  “I’m…” She was about to apologise when she felt the words stick in her throat - she was sorry that she’d lost track of how she was loving Bernie, lost track of where she was kissing, but she wasn’t sorry for loving Bernie with everything she had.

 

“Not about to apologise I hope?” Bernie’s stride never wavered, her professional need to get to the ED in short order unshakeable but that didn’t stop her from looking sideways at Alex, a mixture of amusement and concern in her eyes.  She’d not forgotten the hours of talking as they’d tried to explain their fears, right old wrongs and generally do all that they could to build a foundation of the memories both good and bad from their pasts on from which they could then move onwards, together, inside their ‘happy bubble’ but also ‘out’ in the open, unafraid of the light, unafraid and unapologetic about their love for the other.

 

“For loving you like that?”  Alex’s indignation rose and fell as she realised that her worry was shared and unfounded.  “God no!”  Alex returned Bernie’s half grin, the colour returning to her cheeks again this time clear to see in the brighter lights of the hospital entrance. “I apologise for forgetting…” She still hadn’t decided if she meant forgetting to either not bruise her lover’s skin with her kisses or at least move to somewhere a little less exposed, or whether she meant forgetting losing herself in Bernie as she had done in those hours that were too late to call evening but were too early to be morning, hours that they were no doubt supposed to be too old or too sensible to be doing anything other than sleeping in.  “That payback’s owed?” she decided finally, knowing she’d already had more of Bernie’s precious few minutes before she had to go and save a life.

 

“Happy to remind you.”  Bernie stopped in the entrance, studying Alex’s face one final time, reminding Alex of all the times they’d parted before one or other of them had been about to go outside the wire.  “But not tonight...still on for curry?”

 

“Always.” And, with a little sketch salute-cum-wave and a wink, Bernie turned and disappeared into the hospital, heading for the ED via, Alex imagined, her office and the loo.  Somehow, she doubted that they’d be getting curry tonight...but maybe, hopefully, someone would at least lend Bernie a jacket...


	5. Chapter 5

“Where’s Serena?” asked Alex, returning to the nurse’s station having found the Consultants’ Office surprisingly empty.   
  
“Due back any second,” said Fletch, not looking away from the computer screen, his brow furrowed in concentration.  “You’re still here?” Mystery evidently solved, he pressed a couple of keys and, frown gone, looked up at Alex.  “I mean…”   
  
“Yes, I’m still here.  Boiler’s bust.”   
  
“Bernie never said anything…” Normally, in Fletch’s experience, it was impossible to keep something as irritating as a broken boiler to yourself during the warmest of Summers, never mind in the darker, colder parts of the year.   
  
“She’s hot blooded.”  Alex knew the moment she’d spoken that her face had coloured, but it seemed Fletch was more distracted with their boiler difficulty.   
  
“You got a plumber to come out?  I know a few good ones if you need a recommendation…” Her surprise must have appeared in her expression.  “Yeah, alright, no need to laugh...kids? No heat ain’t fun.”   
  
“I can imagine.  Plumber’s coming tomorrow, but thanks.”   
  
“No worries Dr D, and Serena’s just gone into her office.”   
  
“Cheers Fletch.”  Glad to have got out of her potentially embarrassing moment unscathed, Alex headed back to the Consultants’ office and, standing in the open doorway, knocked on the doorframe.   
  
“You don’t need to knock,” said Serena, smiling at Alex before adding, “coffee, of course…” and starting to look for her bag to find some money.   
  
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I went for a latte with an extra shot.”  Alex thrust the cardboard cup forwards and stepped up to the desk, surprising Serena who nevertheless took the cup and abandoned her search for her bag.   
  
“Thank you…that’s perfect.  But how did you…”   
  
“Bernie texted me - she’d promised to get you a coffee on her way back from…” Alex waved her hand vaguely in front of her before reaching behind her head and scratching her hairline, hoping Serena wasn’t really expecting her to finish that thought as she wasn't sure what she would have said.   
  
“So you know?  About the call?”   
  
“To a scene?  Yeah, I was with her, when ED called.”  Alex took off her jacket and put it on the end of Bernie’s desk before sitting down on Bernie’s chair, deciding that Serena’s neck probably preferred it if she wasn’t looming.  “Any news?”   
  
“Not yet, although ED said they’d call once they’d heard anything.  I just went to make sure they remembered that.”   
  
“Professional courtesy?”   
  
“Something like that…” Serena took a long sip of the still slightly too hot coffee and looked at Alex, wondering whether to volunteer what she did know about the scene Bernie had gone to or whether to wait until she was asked.  "Actually, they might not hear anything..." Serena took another sip of the coffee, partly out of need as she realised she was feeling the effects of a long week that this shift was only making longer, but mainly because she had started a sentence she had second thoughts about finishing.   
  
“Where is she Serena? And don’t worry, I won’t start panicking…”  Alex smiled wryly as she picked up Bernie’s iPad which she’d left charging while she’d been out for her stroll and unexpected few minutes with her girlfriend.  “...I’m pretty sure it won’t be the worst place she’s ever been.”   
  
"She's not there yet."  Putting her coffee aside, Serena looked at the clock on her computer screen and did a bit of guessing.  "Will be in a few minutes I think."  She looked back at Alex, whose look was eloquent and to the point.  "Sorry, person trapped in a collapsed storm drain."   
  
Clearly, judging by the way Serena’s nose wrinkled, ‘storm drain’ was a euphemism for something rather more pungent.   
  
“Ah.  Where’s the ‘storm drain’?”  Absently, Alex concluded that Serena had probably never worked outside of a hospital as her location 'sit rep' delivery was nothing like as good as her patient history summaries were.   
  
“Motorway services, between here and Bristol.”   
  
“She’s been in worse,” declared Alex with certainty, confident that Bernie would be unlikely to be in a rebel sniper’s field of fire or about to be driven into by a suicide bomber.  “But isn’t that off Holby’s patch?”   
  
“St Mark’s, but they’ve already sent their field trauma specialist.  Turns out they’re maybe not that specialist…”   
  
“I might be biased, but compared to Bernie?  There aren’t that many who are.”   
  


* * *

 

  
  
"Dr Wolfe?"   
  
"Call me Bernie."  There were moments when it was important to stand on ceremony and protocol, but with this rather green looking policeman as the light drizzle turned to proper rain was not the moment.  "And breathe through your mouth..."  She looked around, taking in the car park with the lorries and caravans parked over on the far side, and the cars up closer to the Service Station building with its illuminated signs advertising the retail delights within.  "...until someone goes and buys a jar of menthol chest rub please - one of the shops should have some."   
  
"Chest rub?"  Bernie smiled as she saw he'd already started breathing through his mouth.   
  
"For your top lip.  Means you can breathe through your nose."  She looked over his other shoulder, seeing the wall created by an assortment of ambulances, fire engines and police cars.  Presuming that whatever she was needed for was in that direction, she set off walking towards the strobing blue and white lights, expecting him to fall into step with her and start telling her what he knew.   
  
"Right."   Momentarily stunned by the unexpected advice and her apparent intent to find her own way to the scene without an escort, he made the mistake of breathing through his nose again, the smell shaking him out of his daze.  Running across the wet tarmac, he caught her up and, once he was breathing through his mouth, delivered his message.  "The Doc's over there..." he gestured towards a tall man stood talking to an ambulance paramedic, a fireman stood within earshot but, as far as Bernie could see, not really listening.   
  
"And the casualty?"     
  
"Ah, down there."   
  
"Down where?"  Bernie's gaze swept from one side of the cordoned off area to the other, at first not really seeing anything that suggested to her why she was here, before catching sight of another paramedic appearing from, well, 'down there'.  "Nevermind."  Lengthening her stride, Bernie ignored the little clutches of people stood around doing very little it seemed and instead headed straight for the paramedic who was nearly close enough to the top of the ladder to be able to climb out.  "Just get that rub."   
  
"Yes Ma'am."  The policeman had acknowledged her request before he'd really registered it.  He didn't know it then, but it would transpire that while he was the first to react to an order being given without pause, he would soon be joined by many others from all branches of the Emergency Services and beyond.   
  
  
"Bernie Wolfe, trauma surgeon..." She waited with a patience that had kept her alive on numerous battlefields during countless casualty recovery missions, training kicking in the moment she saw the rope line connected to the harness wearing paramedic and the jagged edge to the hole which evidently had the potential to get bigger any second.  She had to wait for the paramedic to come to her rather than head straight to them.  She was no use to the casualty if she made the scene worse, although by pausing she attracted the attention of one of the little groups of people.   
  
"I don't know you."  The tall man who'd been identified as 'the Doc' broke off his conversation with the other paramedic and came over to her, the fireman and paramedic trailing behind him.   
  
"You do now, Dr...?"  She left the question hanging, not having caught his name earlier when she'd been brought up to speed on the situation which, as far as Holby ED had been able to ascertain was that the St Mark's trauma doctor had ventured his opinion and a second opinion was deemed necessary.   
  
"Mark Jackson, trauma surgeon."  He tried to stare her down, wondering what this woman who, by the look of things didn't even have a proper jacket that fitted her given how much the bright orange waterproof jacket swamped her, thought she knew that would alter the situation.   
  
"Bernie Wolfe."  She didn't offer her hand, not interested in social niceties at the best of times when a patient was awaiting her attention and definitely not interested in making friends with this young upstart.  "Why haven't you assessed the patient yourself?"   
  
"I..."   
  
"Have perfectly clean scrubs and shoes.  The paramedic who has just climbed out has mud and dirt on them.  You've not assessed the patient."  Her tone made it clear to the paramedic and fireman that, as far as she was concerned, he was no longer needed in the conversation.  "Can someone find me a harness?"  She looked around again, noting the position of various vehicles and groups of people, correctly judging who had gone into the hole and who hadn't, as well as various other little details.  "And yes, I have done rope work."  She saw the sheepish look on the fireman's face a moment before she also realised it was a fire-woman.  "Major Wolfe, Royal Army Medical Corps and Consultant Trauma and General Surgeon at Holby."  She was however, perfectly able to conform with social niceties if they helped advance the situation.   
  
"Aka the Cavalry?" joked the Firefighter, pulling off her uniform glove and shaking Bernie's offered hand, understanding that this was more than just polite small talk, this was an establishment of ground rules and chain of command.  "Catherine Kitters.  This is Georgie Saunders..."  She gestured to the paramedic beside her who also extended a hand for Bernie to shake.  "And the policeman in charge is Inspector Tominski...he was here a minute ago."  Not seeing him, she returned her focus to Bernie.  "Between the three of us we should be able to come up with something..." She saw Bernie's sharp nod of understanding and sensibly decided she didn't therefore need to continue her explanation - clearly this was a woman who knew how to handle herself in a situation like this.  Glancing at her Ambulance Services colleague, she asked simply, "can you?" before, getting an answering nod, turning and setting off to talk to another huddle of firefighters who immediately began to start putting in place another rope line that Bernie could be harnessed to.   
  
"Kit Kat's guys will do what they can, as will mine.  Patient's tricky, so glad you're here Major.  Steve?"  The petite woman gestured for the paramedic, no longer clipped onto the safety line, to come towards them.  "This is Major Wolfe.  Trauma Consultant from Holby.  Kit Kat's sorting out a line and harness for her..."   
  
"Major."  If Steve was surprised that their request for another doctor at the scene had turned into a consultant from Holby he wasn't showing it.  "My partner's stayed down the hole with the patient.”  He stopped talking when a fireman appeared, holding a safety harness ready for Bernie to put on.

 

“Thanks.”  She shrugged off her borrowed jacket, the rain starting to immediately speckle her AAU blue scrub top, and thrust the jacket at Georgie who accepted it automatically.  “Keep talking,” instructed Bernie as she reached out for the harness and, giving it a practiced glance, worked out which way she needed to step into it.

 

“Ah, right.  Single casualty, male, mid 20s.  Conscious but periodically disoriented, possibly experiencing flashbacks.  We don’t think they’re seizures.”

 

“Head injury?”  Bernie pulled the harness up over her hips and nodded to the fireman that he could start tightening the straps and generally making sure he was satisfied with its fit.

 

“No external indications apart from a gash above his left eyebrow which appears to be superficial.  We’ve, uh, not been able to check pupil reaction.”

 

“Why?”  Bernie’s mind was racing through the various scenarios as she felt the harness tugged and tightened.  “I can understand the left eye being swollen shut.  What’s the status of the right eye?”

 

“There isn’t one.”

 

“Ah.  So mid twenties male, conscious with no vision on the right side and eye injury on the left.  What’s stopping you bringing him up?”  Bernie’s mental picture of the scene was beginning to take shape as, harness deemed correctly fitted, she was handed a hard hat, which she saw had DOCTOR printed on the side in red letters.

 

“He’s trapped, but we’re not sure how.  He’s unable to provide any information about sensation in either leg.”  The experienced paramedic looked as confused as he knew his update was sounding.  “But he seems pretty calm about not being able to feel his legs.”

 

“Previous paraplegia or nerve damage?”  She didn’t think they’d have a detailed patient history from the casualty, given everything else that was going on, but sometimes you got clues.  “Is he trapped with any mobility aids or medications, in a backpack maybe?”

 

“No.  The sinkhole opened up while he was out of his vehicle.”  Steve thought through what he’d just said. “And he said he was walking to the bin.  Which rules out paraplegia.”  The glow of a small mystery solved was short lived as it merely opened up a whole new raft of questions that they didn’t know the answers to.

 

“But still leaves us with loss of topical sensation due to burns, amputation…”  Bernie stopped her shopping list of possibilities while she was tied onto the line that was going to be her safety net when she descended the ladder into the sinkhole that had opened up across the length of the lorries parking area, a couple of lorries half fallen into it about 100 yards away.  “Is this the only trapped casualty?”

 

“Yes.  The sinkhole opened up quickly across the tarmac but is generally only a couple of metres deep.  He was unlucky in that he was on top of it as it collapsed from under him and he ended up dropping through into the drain below.”  Catherine ‘Kit Kat’ Kitters had rejoined them at the same time as the firefighter appeared with the line for Bernie to be attached to.  “He’s about six metres down, we think pinned in by the collapsed drain structure but we don’t really know.  The water board are hunting down the drawings now for us so we can work it out.”

 

“Is he dry?”

 

“We think so.  Not knowing where his legs are…” Steve left the statement hanging, deciding this no nonsense consultant probably wasn’t interested in speculation.

 

“You’re good to go Major.”  The fireman gave the line a final sharp tug, satisfied that the knots weren’t going anywhere.

 

“Thanks.”  Checking that the torch on her hard hat was working, and that her stethoscope was still around her neck, Bernie decided that there wasn’t much left to do except go see her patient.  “Can someone hold these?” she asked, pulling out her mobile phone from her trouser pocket and unclipping her Holby ID badge from her scrub top, briefly wishing she was wearing her army boots rather than her trainers.  “Thanks.”  She smiled at Georgie when the senior paramedic or whatever she was called held out her hand for them, absently noting that it was so much easier in the army, when everyone had a rank clearly visible on their chest or shoulder.  “You got radios down there?”

 

“Yes.”  Georgie pocketed Bernie’s phone and ID in her jacket before continuing. “And we can send more people down if you need them.”  The two women from the fire and ambulances shared a brief look, each checking that the other had made the same assessment about their newest colleague: no nonsense, no games, knew her stuff.  “Once Kit Kat’s guys had got the access, we just kept it to two paramedics until there was a need for more.  Didn’t want to crowd the casualty - he’s not great with too much noise.  Understandable really.”

 

“Kit Kat?” Bernie double checked her shoelaces were tied properly and that her hair was firm in its almost regulation bun that she’d tucked it into while on the drive out here.  “And do I get gloves up here or down there?”

 

“Nickname for me, easier than Area Manager Firefighter Kitters.  Just call Kit Kat on the radio and everyone will know it’s me you need.”

 

“Right.  And you?”

 

“Green Georgie if you’re on the radio, otherwise Georgie’s fine.”  There were times to stand on radio protocol and this wasn’t it.  “We’ll call you Major if that’s ok?”

 

“Fine.”  Bernie finished pulling on the gloves that Steve had held out for her, satisfied that they fit her well.  “Casualty got a name?” she asked, setting off to walk to the ladder, Steve at her side.

 

“He’s muttered a few things, became aggressive and panicked if we asked him directly.  But the first firefighter down thought he recognised him…”  Steve paused by the top of the ladder, not sure if he was supposed to let her go first or lead the way.

 

“Oh?”  Bernie decided it for him by grabbing the top of the ladder firmly and putting her right foot on the top rung, satisfied that it was firm.

 

“He thinks he looks a bit like some club DJ...stage name of Bats.  Didn’t mean much to me.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“Mean something to you?”  He’d not expected her to be familiar with the clubbing scene - he certainly wasn’t.

 

“Maybe.”  And without any further delay or ceremony, she set off down the ladder.  “Someone need a doctor?” she called out lightly, using it as a first indication of how much space they had to work in.

 

“I know you...” It was the patient, clearly conscious still and sounding reasonably alert and ‘present’. “Your voice...say something else?”

 

“I was at the…” Bernie looked around for where to put her feet when she stepped off the ladder, also trying to remember what Matt had called the event last night.  “...gig.  With Matt’s friends?” she added, seeing the other paramedic shining his head-torch onto a fairly solid looking piece of concrete, probably the roof of the drain once upon a time.

 

“Yeah!  I know you!  You’re Captain D’s squeeze…”  Smiling at being able to put a memory to the voice, Leeroy ‘Batz’ Rothman looked like a man quite happy and relaxed, only to sober suddenly.  “Sorry, I mean that respectfully Miss.” He quickly corrected himself, remembering that this was his friend’s sister’s girl, and more to the point, Matt’s sister was an Officer.  “It’s, uh, Bernie?”

 

“Well remembered Ro...you ok with me calling you Ro?” asked Bernie, nodding in greeting to the other paramedic who was currently monitoring his blood oxygen levels and not much else, having been somewhat uncertain what else they could do.

 

“Ro’s fine.  What you doing here?  No offence but this is a bit of an invite only gig…”

 

“I have an invite Ro, I’m a doctor.”  As she made conversation with him, Bernie began her assessment, taking a penlight from the paramedic and starting to play it over his face and neck, working her way down his chest, noting how he seemed to be breathing fairly steadily.  “You mind if I poke and prod a bit?”

 

“Be my guest Bernie…” His expression shifted from easy going smile to a more sober one.  “...but I’m no good at answering your questions about my legs, they don’t do much anymore.”

 

“I know Ro, but they’d doing a lot better than I thought they would.”  Shifting her position slightly, so she could get a better look at what might be trapping him, Bernie sensed her comment had completely confused him.  “We’ve actually met before you know?”

 

“Before last night?”  He tried to remember when he’d last seen Matt’s sister.  “But Capt D always came stag…”  At least, that’s what he thought, but it was getting a bit fuzzy and hard to really think as he was getting tired again.

 

“You won’t remember meeting me Ro, you were a bit out of it.”  Finally she could see past her own legs and see what was holding him down, and it wasn’t looking like it was going to be straightforward to get him out with the two concrete blocks wedged pretty tightly in place, not to mention who knew what sticking out from them.  For all they knew, he could actually be impaled on something, although his blood pressure suggested he wasn’t bleeding out particularly quickly if that was the case.  “I’m Major Wolfe.  I met you at Bastion when you came in from your last patrol.”

 

“Major?”  He started to twist and turn his head from side to side, almost like he was trying to find her face as he tried to hang onto the present and not get swept away into the memories of the last things he clearly saw.  “What’s happening?  Where am I…”  He felt the pinch of the blood pressure monitoring device on his finger and started to try to shake it off.  “Hari?  Jako?”

 

“We think he’s having flashbacks,” explained the other paramedic who had been keeping quietly out of Bernie’s way while she connected with the casualty.

 

“They are fine Lance-Corporal,” said Bernie automatically, his full name and rank at the time of his injury somehow resurfacing to the front of her memory now she needed it.  She’d never analysed how or why she could always remember these details in moments like this, but instead just continued to be grateful for the skill.  “Everyone’s back on Base, it’s just you we need to sort out now.”

 

“Ma’am?”

 

“You’re back in Blighty Ro,” continued Bernie, raising her finger in warning to stop Steve reattaching the blood pressure monitor, wanting to get Ro a little more focussed and ‘present’ with them before adding a new stimulus.  “Life on civvy street for you Marine.”  Bernie was too focused on her patient to see the look exchanged between Steve and the other paramedic when she identified him as a Marine.

 

“I thought…”  Ro was sweating, the flashback to his final moments before the explosions throwing his endocrine systems into chaos.

 

“I know, but we’re both back here, not far from Bristol.”  She watched his breathing, seeing that his chest was rising and falling more slowly now than it had been a moment ago, glad to see both sides still moving reasonably well.  If nothing else, it looked like they probably weren’t having to deal with punctured lungs or broken ribs which was a small mercy she’d gladly take right now.  “In a charming little spot you’ve found, just off the motorway.”  Bernie gestured for Steve to get ready to put the little monitoring clip back on his finger.  “Steve’s just going to put a monitor on your fingertip for me, you mind if it’s on your left hand?”

 

“No Ma’am.”  He still wasn’t completely calm, still fighting not to react to the brief flashes of bright desert landscape his mind was throwing up for him, but he was able to not let them take hold and drag him back there.  Her voice was helping, and his other senses, senses he’d found heightened since his sight was mostly taken.  “That it?” he asked, wiggling his index finger a bit, getting used to the sensation.

 

“That’s it mate,” agreed Steve, checking the clip was on securely as the small portable monitor started to display his stats.

 

“You mind if I examine you?” asked Bernie, deciding he was probably firmly enough back with her to be able to cope with the physical stimulus of an exam.

 

“Go ahead Ma’am.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Henrik!  This is a surprise…”  Serena instinctively glanced at the time, even more surprised by the CEO’s sudden appearance in the doorway given the late hour.

 

“Serena.”  He took her greeting to be an invitation to venture further into the AAU Consultants’ Office, at which point he saw Alex sat in Bernie’s chair.  “And Dr Dawson.”  He paused while he closed the door behind him.  “Good evening.”

 

“Is it?” asked Serena archly, before immediately waving her hand in silent apology.  It wasn’t his fault that she felt irritated that the ED hadn’t let them know what was happening at the scene where Bernie surely had to have been for at least twenty minutes by now.

 

“Dr Dawson, are you familiar with St Mark’s?”

 

“I’ve done some shifts there.”  If Alex was surprised that he was seemingly here to see her not Serena she didn’t show it, preferring to instead just be grateful he wasn’t outwardly concerned by her hanging around despite not working a shift.  “With their trauma unit mostly.”

 

“Does the name Mark Jackson mean anything to you?”

 

“Ye..es…”  Alex shifted in Bernie’s chair so she was sat fractionally more upright, paying rather closer attention than she might have otherwise.  “From what I’ve seen he’s got good hands and has the potential to be a fine surgical consultant.”

 

“But?”  Serena had picked up on the fact that for all her positivity, there was something rather significant that she wasn’t saying.

 

“It would help if he lost the male superiority complex and dialed back on the ego until he’d actually earned it.  And learned what purpose his ears served.”

 

“Sounds like a real charmer,” decided Serena, all too easily able to picture the type right down to the carefully styled haircut and a watch that probably featured in adverts alongside fighter pilots.

 

“He’s made a complaint.”

 

“Oh?”  Alex remained silent while Serena carried on the conversation, trying to work out what the connection would be to Hanssen.

 

“It seems he’d been the first doctor at the scene that Ms Wolfe is now at.”

 

“He’s complained about Bernie?”  Alex couldn’t help herself, she started to laugh.  “She’d make mincemeat of him.”

 

“What are you going to do?” asked Serena, not disagreeing with Alex’s opinion but knowing that hospital politics could see a consultant be made mincemeat of if someone felt that they had something to gain from such an accusation.

 

“Remind my counterpart at St Mark’s that it is never a good idea to send a boy to perform a Major’s job.  Have we heard anything yet?”

 

“No…” Serena was about to continue when Alex’s mobile phone started to vibrate, and the screen flashed up with ‘Bernie’ and, fortunately for both Bernie and Alex’s sake, a perfectly respectable picture of Bernie in her AAU scrub top that Alex had actually taken when she’d been a patient on the ward after her running accident.

 

“Bernie?”

 

“Ah, no.  Is that Alex Dawson?”

 

“Yes...who’s this?” Confused, Alex put the phone on speaker and put it down on the desk so that Serena and Hanssen could hear too.

 

“Catherine Kitters, Wyvern Fire Service I’m the Gold Command for the incident.  And I’ve got Georgie Saunders with me, Wyvern Ambulance Service.  Major Wolfe’s still with the casualty but sent up one of the paramedics to join us on this call until she comes up.”

 

“Oh.”  It took Alex a moment to adjust her mental image of what the scene must look like to be rather less camouflaged and rather more civilian.  “I’m Alex Dawson and I’m here with Serena Campbell and Henrik Hanssen…”  She looked at Bernie’s colleagues, suddenly very grateful for their company.

 

“Good evening Ms Kitters, Ms Saunders.”

 

“Henrik, good to hear you’re there.”  

 

Serena shared a look with Alex, as if to say ‘of course he knows them’, but it wasn’t surprising since, now she thought about it as well, Serena was fairly certain she’d spoken to both women at one of the numerous regional conferences she’d gone to when she’d been Deputy CEO.

 

“Georgie.”  Henrik sat down on the visitor’s chair at the side of the office and leaned forward so he was no longer looming over the seated Alex and Serena.  “This surely isn’t a social call?”

 

“No.  Has Mark Jackson’s tantrum got to you yet?” asked the voice Henrik had acknowledged as ‘Georgie’, which Alex now knew to be the Ambulance Service’s equivalent to, well she wasn’t quite sure what exactly but basically made Georgie ‘the Boss’ of the ambulance service tonight.

 

“Yes, and I’m giving it the contempt it deserves.”  He cleared his throat and looked at Serena and Alex, pleased to see they both were looking satisfied with his plan.

 

“Good to hear.  We’re both putting in complaints to St Mark’s too - he should never have been sent out to this scene.  Speaking of…”  In the AAU office, they heard the sounds of mutterings and radio static in the background before Georgie started talking again.  “I’ve been elected spokesman here.  Major Wolfe’s down with the casualty now and I’m to tell you Alex that it’s Ro?”

 

“Shit.”  Alex jumped up and ran her hands through her hair as she turned around on the spot and stared at the ceiling for a moment, desperately fighting the urge to scream, swear, shout, kick and punch something all at the same time.  “Sorry…” Composure regained, she looked from Serena to Hanssen, seeing only confused concern in their faces before addressing the phone.  “This makes things complicated.”

 

“I’m preferring to focus on it being fortunate that, if I understand things correctly, you and Major Wolfe know his medical history,” countered Georgie smartly although she understood what Alex had meant - she wasn’t entirely certain what they’d have done if they hadn’t had the good fortune of having Bernie Wolfe appear on scene to help out.

 

“Glass half full sort?” joked Alex, trying to remember everything she could about Ro’s injuries while trying not to remember her brother pinned down by that bloody sniper.

 

“More like bottle,” countered Georgie, knowing that a few seconds of random banter now would save them minutes further down the line as it would enable Alex to get her thoughts in order as clearly both she and the Major had a history with the casualty.

 

“Ro is, was Lance Corporal, Royal Marine Commando and Signals Specialist.  Nickname of ‘Bat Shit Crazy’ or ‘Batz’.  Two no, three years ago he was…”  Alex decided that simplicity was more important than perfect military accuracy given her audience.  “...on patrol when his team made enemy contact.  I was on the MERT team, ah, Medical Emergency Response Team that flew out to retrieve them.  Major Wolfe was overseeing the theatres that day.”  

 

A part of Alex noticed Serena and Hanssen share a look which suggested she’d just let slip something that Bernie hadn’t mentioned, but she didn’t dwell on it; Bernie could sort that out later.

 

“Rothman had managed to avoid most of the main IED explosion but got a face full of shrapnel from it and fairly extensive burns across his legs during the secondary flames.  He’d been stood by a semi-buried fuel tank.”  She reached across the desk and snagged a glass of water that Bernie had abandoned some hours earlier, her need for a sip of water greater than any concerns she might have had about how fresh it was.  “He remained conscious for the evac, more concerned about where his fellow Commandos were.  Major Wolfe stabilised him at Camp Bastion and he was evaced to Birmingham about 24 hours later.  She was unable to save his right eye, but managed to stabilise the zygomatic arch enough to save his left eye, well save enough that specialists here could help him recover limited vision.  Severe loss of tissue and sensation on both legs but amputation was avoided.”  Another sip of water would see her get to the end of the update and then she would look back up at Serena and Hanssen, but until then, two inches to the right of her phone, just beyond the edge of the desk seemed perfect.  “He’s now a DJ, did the big club night last night.”

 

“He’s Batz?”  Clearly whatever it was that might have been said next, no one had quite expected Catherine ‘Kit Kat’ Kitters to latch onto the DJ part.

 

“Yeah.”  Alex wasn’t quite sure what else to say to that, although judging from Serena and Hanssen’s expressions if she’d known the firefighter she would have been doubly surprised.

 

“Sorry, irrelevant tangent.  But I see now why we were all struggling with the assessment.”

 

“What’s his status?” asked Alex, going with her instinct that, for all their experience, both Serena and Henrik were probably rather more in-hospital based than hers.

 

“Major Wolfe said she’d join us in a minute, but he’s still trapped and it’s a challenge to work out on what although his stats suggest it’s more of a crush than a pin situation,” summarised Georgie.  “He’s conscious and coherent, no obvious head trauma aside from cuts and bruises although his left eye’s swollen shut. Whatever has got hold of him, it begins to bite just below the knee on his left side, mid calf on the right, but we can’t get access.”  Georgie looked at her firefighter colleague for her to take over in the ‘painting a picture’ update.

 

“We’ve managed to get some webbing around him so even if anything shifts he’s not dropping down further, and we’ve got some tarps up to stop the rain drenching him directly…”  The service station car park was starting to resemble a tent city as assorted shelters were dotted around trying to create dry surfaces and corners for people to huddle under and do their respective duties.

 

“It’s raining?”  Alex realised how stupid her question sounded when she saw that Henrik was still wearing his raincoat which was covered in water droplets: somehow she wasn’t surprised that he’d maintained the waterproofing on the raincoat to such a high standard that the rainwater just sat on the fabric surface.  “Sorry, not been by a window for a while…”

 

“Not sure what it’s like in Holby, but out here it’s been fairly torrential for the last half hour or so...which brings us to the real problem.”

 

“You mean aside from the fact that he’s pinned down between two car sized concrete slabs?” asked Bernie, her voice clearly audible to her Holby colleagues who shared a smile with each other, glad that Bernie wasn’t in any way being anything other than  _ their  _ Ms Wolfe with their emergency service colleagues.

 

“Yes Major.  We’ve got the drainage plans and it’s not good.  Can you hold this side down please Georgie?  Ta…”  Alex, Serena and Henrik waited while they heard the papers rustle, presuming it was some sort of map or plan being laid out on a car bonnet to show Bernie something.  “The storm’s travelling West to East and has already caused flash flooding when it’s at its peak intensity, which isn’t due to get to here for another two hours…”  There was more rustling and muttered swearing as Kit Kat tried to get the plan oriented the right way so she could make her point effectively.  “But he’s fallen into the top of a drain flowing from West to East.”

 

“I thought it was a sewer?” asked Bernie, starting to see what she thought the firefighter was saying but wanting to be doubly certain.

 

“Mostly, but it takes storm water too if there’s more than these…”  As Kit Kat started indicating various lines on the drainage system plan to Bernie, Serena noticed Alex start to do what looked like a doodle on a piece of paper she’d taken from Bernie’s stack of scrap paper that she’d found in Bernie’s bottom desk drawer.  The Major was messy but predictable in her mess, for which Alex was very grateful. “...and these can cope with.”  A film director would have asked them to act out a dramatic pause at this point, but rather more mundanely, a change in the wind speed and direction instead caught them all off guard and having to shift round so the rain was again lashing their backs rather than their faces and the map was rolled up, it having served its purpose.  “And they’re not coping.”

 

“How long until he gets wet?” asked Bernie, having taken enough in from the plan to see that the network of drains and sewers were effectively channelling a large volume of water into a narrow conduit that was heading, by a circuitous route admittedly, but nevertheless heading for them.  It would only be a matter of time before the water level increased such that Ro was no longer ‘high and dry’ but instead was ‘high and wet’.  What’s more, it was a period of time that was only going to decrease as the storm moved nearer to them.

 

“We hope two hours, but it could be closer to one and a half.”

 

“Who’s on the phone?”

 

“I’m here with Henrik and Alex,” said Serena quickly, when it became clear that Alex was still focussed on her doodle which, now she looked at it, was actually a diagram and some notes that seemed to consist entirely of abbreviations.

 

“Alex?”

 

“How’s his temp?”

 

“Starting to spike.  Saline’s helping, but probably not for much longer.  Pressure’s good, so if he’s got a bleed it’s slow.  Abdomen seems to be clear and ribs intact.”  Bernie rubbed her mucky forehead with her equally mucky forearm as she tried to think through what else might be relevant at this point.  “Existing scar tissue is making finding pulses problematic so no idea what the status of his legs and feet might be, but it doesn’t look promising.  We’ve got him on antibiotics but…”

 

“Pain relief?”

 

“Minimal - I’ve not given him anything yet, but I’ve got lines in ready.”  Bernie knew Alex would untangle that statement and correctly understand that he was generally managing on the Entonox from the paramedics and was either not requesting or refusing to accept something stronger that Bernie could administer.  Nevertheless, so as to not waste any time when they did need to increase his pain relief or fluids, she’d already done the prep work.  “He’s also got his regular medication which he’d taken about half an hour before the collapse.”

 

“Any idea what that is?”

 

“He said it’s the ‘same old’ so I imagine it’s the usual suspects.”  Bernie clearly turned away from the phone as her voice was quieter, forcing Serena and Hanssen to strain to hear her asking if they’d found his things or a travelling companion.  Clearly someone managed to answer her question because she turned her attention back to the phone.  “Apparently his coach left him behind but the police are bringing his backpack now.  Until then…”  Bernie accepted the bottle of water someone offered to her and she took a few sips while she waited for someone to speak, her focussed stare at the phone making it apparent to those stood around the phone with her that it was someone at Holby who was supposed to break the silence.

 

“We take an educated guess…”  There was another pause as Alex made a couple more margin notes on her doodle diagram.  “I know what you’re thinking.”  Serena and Hanssen shared a look, both checking the other was as baffled by Alex’s response, neither having heard anything that sounded like a plan from Bernie that Alex needed to agree with.  “I hate it, but I agree.  Have you talked to him?”

 

“Not yet.  But he’s brought it up.  I think he’d worked it out almost immediately.”  

 

Frustrated that neither woman was making much sense to her, Serena decided that relatively drastic action was required and so wrote WHAT? In large letters on a piece of paper that she then held up for Alex to see.

 

“Serena’s just pointed out we’ve forgotten to use our words…” In spite of the stress of the situation, Alex could see the humour and managed to grin, knowing that what she was about to do wasn’t going to help the situation.  “You can’t do it without help and a helicopter.”

 

“I was counting on you and AAU for the help…” Bernie looked at Georgie and Kit Kat, their faces expressive.  “And it seems we’re struggling with air support.”

 

“Can you call Serena’s phone?  I need to call Matty.”  

 

Seconds later, Serena’s phone was ringing loudly in the small office and Alex’s phone was dark - Bernie had never seen the point of talking about doing something if she could just do it in half the time.

 

“Bernie Wolfe, what the hell are you two talking about?”

 

“Hello Serena…”  Bernie waited a moment to see if Serena was going to go nuclear on her or not.  When it seemed not, she continued exactly where she’d left off.  “What’s the ETA on the Air Ambulance?”  Her tone and facial expression clearly communicated that she considered it to be a foregone conclusion that someone had already thought to request it.

 

“Too long.”  Georgie Saunders suddenly felt like a messenger that was going to be shot.  “It’s on a shout over the far side of the patch.  Even if it clears its current casualty in time, it needs to refuel before coming here.”

 

“There’s going to be a helicopter.”  Bernie’s tone brooked no debate but unfortunately, as far as Georgie was concerned, it didn’t matter how the Major said it, there was nothing she could do to get the Air Ambulance across in time.

 

“I’m sorry Major, but it’s not possible.”

 

“I did not get this man back from Afghanistan so he could die in a ditch in Somerset.”

 

“It’s a drain, not a ditch.”  Kit Kat had always been warned that a smart mouth would one day get her into a heap of trouble that she couldn’t get out of.  For a split second after she’d already started talking, she wondered if this was the moment.

 

“And we’re in Devon.”

 

Clearly, if this was the day, Georgie was going down in the same blaze of stupidity.

 

“If I may?”  Henrik Hanssen had never knowingly rushed into anything, so his interjection was seized on like a lifeline by both women, realising that what they’d just done to the Major was probably something few others could attest to surviving.  “I might suggest we continue to work with the Major’s assumption that there will be a helicopter.”

 

“But it’s over on the other side of the County, and…”

 

“...and needs to be refueled, I understand that Ms Saunders.”  

 

 

As she listened to Henrik start to soothe ruffled emergency service feathers, Serena almost forgot that there was still a step they hadn’t quite covered yet - if they were assuming the helicopter would appear in order to take this young man to a hospital (and Serena was fairly certain there was also an assumption in play that by ‘hospital’ Bernie was meaning Holby and AAU specifically), then there was at some point going be the moment when he was removed from his drain.  And then she remembered the night she’d accepted Bernie’s peace offering and gone round for dinner, the night their friendship first tentatively began...what was it Bernie had said?   _ The priority is to get out of there, get to safety...Battered and alive is better than stabilised and dead... _ Serena began to see that, as far as Bernie was concerned, getting this young man out of the drain before the storm water came was not that different to getting him out of the war zone.  So, in an effort to not interrupt Henrik’s attempts at restoring the fragile  _ entente cordiale  _ at the other end of the phone, Serena tried to think the way she imagined Bernie might be…

 

“Oh God…”

 

“Serena?”  Alex looked up from her phone as she came back into the small office, just relieved that she’d actually caught Matty at a moment he could answer his phone.

 

Conscious of the open phone line on the desk, Serena found her discarded bit of paper and scribbled on it before passing it across to Alex to read as the anaesthetist sat down..

 

_ She’s going to amputate? _

 

Looking up, Alex met Serena’s suddenly sober expression and nodded sadly, knowing that Bernie wouldn’t have formed this conclusion lightly.  Glancing across the desks, Serena now saw that Alex’s doodle diagram was in fact a stick figure diagram of what Bernie had described, surrounded by shorthand notes as Alex worked out various things, presumably to do with performing such a procedure a very long way from a hospital theatre.  It looked so obvious, seeing it drawn out that starkly.

 

They still didn’t really know how he was trapped.

They still didn’t really know how much damage had been done to his lower legs when he was trapped.

They couldn’t stop the water.

They knew he needed to be got out of there before the water came if he was going to survive.

They had to get him out.

 

_ Battered and alive. _ _   
_ _   
_ __ Better than stabilised and dead.

  
  


“...but none of that changes anything!”  In the long silence that followed the outburst, Alex realised she had no idea whether it had been the fire or ambulance officer who’d spoken:  all she really knew was that it wasn’t Bernie.

 

“Major?”  Unable to hear the conversation that started between Bernie and whoever had just rushed up to her, Alex took the time to review what they did and didn’t know while she waited for either Bernie or Matt to get back to her.  Unsurprisingly perhaps, neither Serena nor Henrik had anything they felt they could say to help the situation and so remained tensely silent.

 

“I’ll be there in a minute….”  Bernie’s voice got louder and clearer as evidently, conversation over, she came nearer to the phone handset again.  “Alex?  You there?”

 

“Yes.  Status change?”

 

“Pressure dropping, temp spiked again.  I need to go back to him.  Did you get hold of Matt?”

 

“Yes.”  Alex ran her hand through her hair and leaned forwards so she was nearer the phone.  “Caught him when he was able to talk and he then caught his CO.  He says to tell Ro that the Boss wants to know if he does wedding receptions, and is coming himself to hear the answer.”  Her phone lit up and started to buzz.  “Hold on Bern…”  Snatching up her phone, Alex turned away from the desk and answered, not recognising the number but hoping it was because it was good news.  “Dawson, go.”

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

“Thank you Sir.”  She turned and looked at Serena and Henrik, her broadening grin something of a clue but the thumbs up sign confirmation.

 

“Hold on a sec Sir…”  She moved the phone away from her mouth slightly and leaned forwards again so she could speak to all three Holby surgeons simultaneously, her brain switched firmly into ‘military mode’.  “Major?  CHF are fueling a Merlin and will be airborne in fifteen minutes.  Major Horbain is co-ordinating for us.”

 

“Thank you Toby.”  Bernie remembered him from her final week in Afghanistan, so different to how he’d been when she’d first met him in Basra, a young and headstrong newly commissioned officer who found himself on her wrong side over something.  What it was she’d long forgotten - she stopped remembering what got young officers on her wrong side the moment they did something that regained her respect, which was something he’d done time after time since.  His elevation to the rank of Major clearly showed hers wasn’t the only respect he’d earned.

 

“We should be there in an hour give or take…”

 

“But?”

 

“It’s not a medivac.”

 

“You’ll think of something Captain.”  Bernie’s mind was already changing gears, not liking what the paramedic was scribbling down on a bit of paper for her to read.  “See you in an hour.”

 

“Sorry Sir…” Alex moved her phone back to her mouth.  “Major Wolfe passes on her thanks.”  There was a long pause during which Alex looked anywhere but at Serena and Hanssen, not quite sure what their reaction to this was going to be while she listened to him rattling through some more details before he was then interrupted by someone..

 

“Yes Sir, I’ll wait.”  As she ran out of ceiling tiles to count, Alex had a thought.  “Uh, Kit Kat?”  It sounded strange, calling the firefighter by her nickname despite never having met her but it was the only name Alex could remember in that moment.

 

“Go ahead…” The firefighter’s voice was faint, like she’d been away from the phone but was rapidly rushing closer again so she could hear over the increasingly loud wind and rain.

 

“We’ve got the helicopter coming, can you give Serena the details of how they contact you direct?”  Alex could only begin to guess the sorts of things that would need to be planned and prepped for them to actually pull this off - her mental list was already in four sections and she was only thinking about how to minimise casualty distress and maximise recovery so she didn’t want to begin to think about what the helicopter crew and military and civilian authorities might need.

 

“Whose helicopter?” asked the voice that had earlier been identified as Georgie.

 

“Royal Marines….hello Sir.”  Alex returned her focus to her own phone call, leaving a pregnant silence, electing to take a leaf out of Bernie’s book and not waste time worrying about bruised egos and trodden on toes.  “Really?  That is good news Sir…”  Alex grabbed another piece of paper from Bernie’s stack of scrap paper and started scribbling a list of things she would need now she knew what the helicopter and Marines were, or more specifically, were not bringing with them, her heart starting to slow again now that she knew there was a plan.  

 

They weren’t out of the woods yet, the storm was apparently racing towards them faster than originally forecast and the rain was more intense, but it could be worse.  

 

At least no one was shooting at them.


	7. Chapter 7

“You sure you want to do this?” asked Serena, coming quietly into the side room where Fletch was currently sorting out various bits and pieces that they were steadily accumulating from across the AAU and ED stores and supplies.

 

“Me not volunteer for go in an Army helicopter?” Fletch put down the scalpel packs he’d been checking and folded his arms.

 

“It’s the Navy’s…” corrected Alex automatically from where she was sat in the shadows on the far side of the room, checking her check lists to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.  “Well, technically, since the Royal Marines are part of the Royal Navy.”  She never looked up from her checklists, so therefore missed the look that Serena and Fletch shared, a look that made Serena wonder if she’d perhaps asked the wrong person.

 

“I’m fine Serena, really.”  Fletch unfolded his arms and relaxed, realising that she’d not asked the question as a challenge and she deserved rather more less machoness.  “It’s the least we can do for the poor bugger...”  

 

“Yes…” Serena forced herself to breathe deeply so she didn’t become distracted from her part of the evening’s extraordinary events with thinking about what it must be like for their patient, and for Bernie.  Even with all of Serena’s trauma experience, knowing that her next operation was going to be finishing up a double amputation on a young man was an emotional test, and she was going to be doing it in the familiar sanctuary of the Operating Theatre.  She could only imagine what it was going to be like for Bernie and Alex at the scene.  Except she couldn’t. “Don’t be a hero Fletch…”  As she spoke, she worried that she’d got the words wrong, or that her tone might be misunderstood by him, her words not sounding like what she was trying to say.

 

“The way I see it…” began Fletch, resuming packing the big shopping list of medical supplies Alex had identified into the ED on scene rucksack in the order she asked for, his thoughtfulness making him sound laidback and conversational… “...is that it’s like a relay race, you know, the ones where they run the stick around?”  He glanced at Serena, grinning when she saw her skeptical look, before continuing with both his explanation and packing.  “The lad’s gonna have Ms Wolfe and Dr D getting him out of the starting blocks and the paramedics, well, they take over and get him a the stretcher and helicopter, where I take over…”  He scratched his arm absently as he was distracted from his explanation with thoughts about what he’d be doing while they got to Holby, only to give himself a shake and remind himself it was not that different to what he’d do in AAU.  “...and then we get here, and he’s on to you and Mr Hanssen, in theatre like.”  He put the final package of sterile instruments in the rucksack, then another packet of tourniquets on the top before doing up the zips.  Looking at Serena, his hand resting on the now packed and fastened bag, he shrugged.  “The race idea goes a bit wrong ‘cos it’s not like Ms Wolfe and Dr D are going to stay behind…”

 

“I understand Fletch.”  Serena put her hand on his shoulder in solidarity.  “I’m not sure Usain Bolt would appreciate my being compared to him either…”

 

“Nah…”  Fletch pointedly looked her up and down, his normal ‘cheeky chappie’ grin firmly in place.  “...you’ve not got ‘is legs…” before wincing, his intended lighthearted teasing of his rather shorter boss feeling in rather poor taste given the circumstances.

 

“You’re about tied on the smile though,” said Alex, having been listening to more of their conversation than either of them had realised.

 

“Uh…”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”  She stood up and walked over to them both, seeing the bed which she’d been using as a convenient table to sort things on was no longer covered in medical supplies.  “Seriously.  It’s okay.”  Alex saw that neither of Bernie’s Holby colleagues looked convinced by her.  “Ro’s probably already made a few cracks like that to Bernie, and I’m sure my brother will have a couple ready to go for when he see him too...though probably with less wholesome mental pictures attached.”  She put her pen in the pocket on the sleeve of the scrub shirt she was now wearing over a long sleeved t-shirt she’d raided from Bernie’s locker that she’d recognised as being one of the countless ‘cold day’ tops in greens and greys the surgeon had finally deemed acceptable to wear under her scrubs when the temperature had dropped into single figures...and Alex had hidden her uniform ones.  “In fact…”  Alex looked at Fletch, deciding that she’d take a small risk to make her point.  “I’m willing to bet that you’ll hear someone ask how his elbow is.”

 

“His elbow?”  Serena looked puzzled at this anatomical curve ball.  “Is it significant to being a DJ?”

 

“No idea, but it’s where the funny bone is, and as long as that’s in one piece…”  She trailed off, seeing Fletch’s expression twitch as his own ‘funny bone’ was tickled in spite of what he ‘thought’ the expected behaviour might be.

 

“You want anything else Dr D?” Fletch thumped the packed rucksack confidently.  “All packed how you wanted, tourniquets on the top and another packet every couple of layers down, like you wanted.”  He’d been confused by that request, until Alex had simply explained that it was the one thing that was irreplaceable in what they were about to do.  For all the specialised scalpels and other pieces of equipment and dressings they were taking, pretty much everything could be improvised if they really had to, but tourniquets?  Those were going to be the first thing out of the bag, and the third thing, and the thing after too.  That way, if the first one was dropped and the next one snapped there was still another one...and so on.  There were any number of complications and surprises that might rear their less than pleasant head in the next couple of hours, but the patient bleeding out because there wasn’t a decent tourniquet?  Not happening.

 

“Thanks Fletch.”  Alex looked at her watch.  “When they get here, someone’s going to come and get you.”  She thought it would probably be Hari, assuming Matt had just rounded up Ro’s mates to help, but that was an unnecessary complication.  “He’ll sort you out…” Alex looked at Fletch, wondering if he’d understood her without her having to labour it.

 

“Do what he says when he says it?”

 

“Pretty much.”  Alex smirked, thinking about what might be a more accurate description.  “Or go where he shoves…”

 

“And don’t shove back!” added Serena, deciding that while Alex might be crediting Fletch with a self-preservation instinct, she wasn’t prepared to leave anything to chance.

 

“Scout’s honour.”

 

“C’mon Fletch…”  Alex grabbed the rucksack and slung it casually over her shoulder, instinctively managing to not lose her stethoscope from around her neck in the same movement.  “Our ride’s almost here.”  And, grabbing the bright orange reflective waterproof jacket that proclaimed her to be a ‘DOCTOR’ that matched the one identifying Fletch as ‘NURSE’, Alex gestured for him to lead the way - she had no idea where helicopters landed at Holby.

 

* * *

  
  
  


“Ma’jer?”

 

“Yes Ro?”  Bernie braced herself against a convenient bit of concrete and draped her stethoscope back round her neck, giving him her complete attention.

 

“Can I as’ you a quest’n M’m?”  Ro was struggling to stay alert and awake as he had finally lost his personal battle against the pain and was now letting Bernie give him more pain relief than the paramedic’s gas and air mix.  That it was also approaching midnight was probably also a factor.

 

“I’m listening.”  Bernie waited, wondering what his question would be about, having already covered his questions about where exactly he was, what the options were for getting him out and what the prognosis was in each of the options they’d talked about.

 

“Las’ nigh’...” He licked his lips, finding the drugs were drying out his mouth making finishing his words challenging and making him sound dopier than he felt he was.  “A’ the gig…” He sucked against his teeth, trying to draw more saliva into his mouth so that he could talk more clearly.  “Did you lik’ it?”

 

“‘It’?”  Bernie saw him start to swallow, knowing he was struggling with his dry mouth but unable to offer any practical help as she couldn’t risk giving him water to drink.  She therefore tried to think what he might be meaning, specifically, by ‘it’.  “The music you mean?”

 

“Yeah.”  Ro grinned, the drugs giving him an extra laid back, lazy expression.  “No...Fun for you?” 

 

“I had a lovely evening,” assured Bernie, genuine warmth in her voice.  “But I’m not sure about the music.”

 

“Not like or can’t rem’memb’?” asked Ro, hearing the smile in her voice when she’d said she’d had a lovely evening in a way that was missing from her comment about the music.

 

“I can’t remember much about the music,” confessed Bernie, guessing that she was probably blushing based on how warm her cheeks felt, hoping Steve the paramedic didn’t notice in the shadowy darkness of their little cavern.

 

“Dancin?”  That, knew Ro from what other friends had told him, was the usual reason people gave for not remembering the music he’d played, which he understood and was starting to take as a compliment.  If people were too busy dancing to notice how he put the tracks together, he was clearly picking the right mood and lining up the beats to keep them on the dance floor.

 

“Not me, two left feet.”

 

“Not dancin’...”  Ro tried to frown only to aggravate the cuts on his face, making them sting and causing him to wince, which only aggravated the cuts more, including bursting open some of the ones which had previously stopped bleeding.

 

“You’ve started bleeding again mate,” explained Steve, knowing now that it had been the wetness of the blood on his face that had been earlier causing Ro to become disorientated and start having flashbacks to the day he was wounded in Afghanistan.  Once they’d managed to get his face cleaned up a bit and most of the bleeding either stopped completely or contained with dressings, Ro had remained calmer and more focussed in the current moment.  “I’m just going to put a dressing on it for you…”  Steve reached across the open bag that he’d managed to balance on a convenient bit of collapsed drain wall and pulled out a dressing which he ripped open.  “You ready for it?” he asked, holding the dressing a couple of inches from Ro’s face, having also already learned that the ex-Marine still had plenty of upper body strength, well developed hand-to-hand combat skills and a highly developed awareness of when his personal space was being encroached on without an invitation.

 

“Will it make me look like a pirate?”  At least, that’s what Ro thought he’d said.  It actually came out rather more incoherently thanks to his drug induced dry mouth and slurring.  Fortunately however, both Bernie and Steve were virtually fluent in ‘dopey patient’ and both knew what he was trying to say.

 

“Only if you want it to,” explained Bernie, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing when she saw him start to nod.  Even highly trained and potentially lethal Royal Marines were, under the right mix of drugs, fundamentally still small boys at heart.

 

“One pirate dressing coming up then,” declared Steve, entering into the spirit of the occasion and reaching across for another bandage which he held up for Bernie to see, pleased when she nodded in agreement.  If Ro wanted to look like a pirate, then look like a pirate they could do - especially if it enabled them to properly dress the left side of his face.

 

“K…”  With a big dopey grin firmly on his face that was a mixture of medication and what Bernie knew from last night to be his natural goof, Ro stuck his head forwards towards their voices and waited while Steve carefully put the dressing over the cuts across his forehead and around his eye, before winding the bandage firmly around his head on an angle so that soon he did indeed look like a pirate with an eyepatch.

 

* * *

  
  


“Ready Fletch?”  Alex watched the big helicopter’s wheels touch gently onto the centre of the helipad, knowing that the plan would be for the rotors to keep turning while they climbed aboard.  The military helicopter was no doubt significantly heavier than the air ambulance, meaning the pilots would be balancing the helicopter lightly on the ground and keeping the rotors going so that there was uplift being generated, effectively making the helicopter ‘lighter’.

 

“As I’ll ever be…” For all his confidence a few minutes earlier, it suddenly felt rather more serious now he was looking at the helicopter: he’d not stopped to think whether he’d be worried about helicopters after what had happened in the summer.

 

“You ok?”  Alex looked at him critically, well versed in the arrival of the helicopter triggering a change in attitude and perspective.  “I can manage if you’d rather…”  She was having to concentrate a little more on keeping her balance now the helicopter was on the ground, the rain leading the storm now being whipped into their bodies by the rotor wash as well as the wind, but remained focussed on him.  “No drama.”  It would be good to have him with them, if only to be another set of eyes and notes during the final transfer from helicopter to operating theatre so that no medications or spikes in vitals were missed, but not if he wasn’t comfortable.  No Fletch was better than an anxious or stressed Fletch.

 

“I’m good.”  Looking at the big helicopter, Fletch realised that he really meant that - at first, when he’d seen the helicopter descending from above their heads, hearing the sound of the rotors had reminded him of the crash.  But in a weird way, the fact that it was a wet and windy winter’s night and there was no way that this could be mistaken for an air ambulance made it easier.  Sensing Alex’s gaze on him, he turned and looked at her, understanding that while she might not have any idea why he might have been having last minute doubts, she had been completely serious in both her concern and suggestion he could stay behind. “Really Dr D, I’m good.”  Realising he was shouting and still unable to really hear himself over the noise, he reinforced his words with a thumbs up and a scout’s three fingered salute, the latter gesture causing her to chuckle.

 

“C’mon then.”  Walking out across the helipad, instinctively ducking her head slightly, she was conscious of him following her as she walked towards the two people coming towards her - one that she immediately recognised as her brother.  As she was met by Matty, whose first instinct was to reach for the rucksack she was carrying but stopped when she saw her firm shake of her head, the other Marine met Fletch and immediately started to return to the helicopter with Fletch.  Clearly, the plan was that Fletch was boarded first.

 

“How’s Ro?”  In contrast to when Fletch had been trying to make himself heard over the noise of the helicopter, Alex had no problem understanding Matt’s question as they both instinctively fell into the familiar mix of shouting, lip reading and hand gestures that had got both of them through the hundreds of helicopter pick ups that they’d each undertaken in their military careers.

 

“Hanging in there.  Who’s on board with you?”

 

“Boss, Hari, Jako.  Pilots know the Major.”  As they walked back to the helicopter, Alex worked out that this meant the team from Afghanistan was reunited as ‘Boss’ was Major Toby Horbain who had been the officer in command of Matt and Ro’s sections, with Hari and Jako both being part of the same patrol group.  From memory, Hari and Jako both had fairly decent field medic skills too.  Which just left one question.

 

“Which Major?”  By now they were alongside the helicopter so Alex slung the rucksack onto the floor of the cabin, preparing to climb on board.  “Yours or mine?” she asked, looking back at Matt, wanting to know whose favours had been traded for this particular miracle.

 

“Both.”  Matt waited while she swung herself into the cabin before following her in.  As Jako shut the side door and communicated with the pilots that they were in a position to take off, Matt passed her a radio headset while he put one on himself, enabling them to talk a little more easily over the noise inside the helicopter.  “But mostly yours.” 

 

Nodding in confirmation that she’d heard him, Alex looked over to the other side of the cabin where Fletch was now strapped in and gave him a thumbs up sign which he returned.  Not having a radio headset, there was no point trying to have a more in depth conversation with him, nor did she have the time to.  Instead, her job right now was to start to work out what she needed to make sure they brought onto the helicopter with Ro when they came to make the return trip to Holby.

 

“No stretcher?” she asked Matt, spotting the first rather fundamental omission.  They hadn’t been kidding when they’d asked if it had to be a Medivac helicopter as that would take longer to organise.  Fortunately, Hanssen and Serena had handled that side of the conversation with the Emergency Services and whatever equipment they needed from the ambulances and fast response vehicles at the scene came with them to Holby on the helicopter, starting it would seem with a stretcher.

 

“Too long,” said Matt simply, looking over to Jako who had been checking details with the pilots now they were in the air.  “On scene 12 minutes.”  Giving him another thumbs up, Alex stopped worrying about what they did or didn’t have on board now and started to focus instead on what she needed to make sure they did have when they started the return trip.  Getting to Ro, she knew twelve minutes would feel like an eternity, but on the return to Holby she knew it would feel like anything from 12 seconds to 12 lifetimes depending on how he was doing. 

 

* * *

  
  


“Ma’jer?”

 

“Yes Ro.” Bernie put her hand gently on his shoulder to let him know she was still there and that his pirate impressions hadn't driven her away.

 

“No’ ta dan’cer….” It took Bernie a moment to work out what he was now talking about, but evidently he’d remembered something of their earlier conversation.

 

“No, I'm not a dancer.”

 

“Two lef’ feet…” This was clearly something that Ro found very funny as he started to chuckle.

 

“Positively dangerous on the dancefloor,” agreed Bernie, smiling in spite of everything - his irrepressible good humour despite his career ending injuries and current predicament rather infectious.

 

“Ma’jor?” asked Ro eventually, his head starting to loll to the side as the next wave of sleepiness started to creep up on him, causing Bernie to share a look of concern with Steve, the paramedic having cottoned on fairly early on that she wanted to keep Ro awake for as long as possible.

 

“Yes Ro?”

 

“Can I call y’ Ber..”  Ro tried to finish her name, but his dry mouth defeated him.

 

“Yes, you can call me Bernie Ro.”  She turned on her penlight and shone the powerful beam down towards the still intact bottom of the drain where she could see the water level had risen again.

 

“I like Cap’n D…” began Ro carefully, working hard to keep his mouth working, determined to say his piece.

 

“I…”

 

“Shsh.”  Ro’s mouth went into a hard line and his jaw clenched - Steve made to check his vitals again, thinking this was a sign his pain was increasing, but Ro shook his hand off.  “Ro talkin’.  Bern-nie shsh.”

 

There was a long silence, save for the faint sound of what Bernie hoped was the helicopter approaching and the nearer, louder sound of the water starting to slosh and splash through the drain below them.  Finally, after she’d smirked and gesticulated at Steve a few times, the paramedic understood what she was trying to get him to do.

 

“Bernie’s promised to be quiet Ro.  Keep talking mate, she’s listening.”

 

“Good.”  Now he knew he had her attention, Ro took the time to fight his way through the dopey haze that was in his head and put his thoughts together in the right order.  Hanging onto them carefully, he took a deep breath and licked his dry lips with a just damp tongue, determined to say his piece even if it took every last bit of energy he had.  “Cap D...li’k bi' sis...ter….don-t’hur-t her…”  Even though he was unable to see Bernie, his eye and face well wrapped up in his pirate style head bandage, the rest of his face made it clear that, in his mind at least, he was subjecting Bernie to a long, hard stare.  

 

Steve hadn’t thought it was possible to be glared at by someone whose eyes were behind bandages and therefore invisible, but now, watching this private conversation between the two of them, he saw past the scars and the injuries, saw through the jokes and drug-induced silliness and saw the Royal Marine Commando who had strength and determination to survive that original explosion, who had been quick to understand his current predicament.  The body may be scarred but the spirit was undimmed.

 

“Ma’jor or Bern...nie.  Don’t… hurt...Cap D.”  His piece said, he slumped back against the concrete he was wedged by and Steve saw the webbing harness straps snap taut as they took his weight.

 

“No more shsh Ber...niee.”

 

“I understand Ro.”  And she did - he may be dopey but the intent was clear, and fortunately, it was an intent Bernie shared.  “I don’t ever plan to hurt her again.”

  
  


“Goo’...”  In case she hadn’t heard him over the roar of the approaching helicopter, he tried to nod his head energetically, although it was more of a floppy loll than a sharp nod. 

 

“Can I feel your legs?”  Seeing how he’d just slumped, Bernie was concerned to check what impact that had or hadn’t had on how he was trapped, but hopefully the helicopter noise that was getting louder and louder suggested that he didn’t need to hold on for much longer.

 

“No’ your type…” Ro’s face was transformed with a broad grin as he clearly found this very amusing.  Before he completely lost his focus and descended into uncontrolled giggles however, he did manage to give Bernie a brief thumbs up sign, just as Steve’s radio burst into life.

 

The helicopter was here.


	8. Chapter 8

“Dr Dawson?” Alex raised her hand in acknowledgment of the shout as the group of assorted firefighters approached them, clearly under instructions to start getting her ready to go down to Ro.  Fortunately, the Marines had worked out this would be the Fire Brigade’s first reaction and, while they’d not been able to immediately lay their hands on a medivac configured helicopter, they had been able to bring harnesses so everyone including Fletch was already wearing one.

 

“Where’s he going?” shouted Fletch, distracted from what was happening ahead of them by the helicopter lifting off behind him.

 

“To wait.”  Hari, who was much more awake now than the last time Alex had seen him at the train station earlier in the day, was taking his job of keeping an eye on the Holby nurse very seriously.  “Helicopter’s too heavy for the road so can’t land.  It’ll come back when we want it.”

 

“So what was that?” asked Fletch, gesturing over his shoulder, indicating that he’d thought the helicopter had landed when they’d got out just now.  “You telling me I just jumped out a flying helicopter?”

 

“Pretty much.”  Hari didn’t think now was the moment to try and explain that there was a difference between the wheels of the helicopter touching the ground while the helicopter was technically still ‘in flight’ and the weight of the helicopter resting on the ground through the wheels.  Looking at Fletch’s facial expression, he wasn’t sure there would ever be a moment to try and explain that.

 

“Fletch?”

 

“Yes Dr D?”  Stepping up to stand by Alex, glad to have something other than the helicopter not landing, Fletch waited to see what he could do to help.

 

“Can you and Hari sort a stretcher for when we get Ro out?”  Alex looked around, trying to see where the senior Ambulance Service person might be but not actually knowing who she was looking for.  She hoped however, that Fletch, with his Holby ED experience, might actually know some of them.

 

“You want everything on it?” Fletch was fairly certain that he knew the answer, but he’d also learned fairly early on after meeting Bernie Wolfe that there were times when it was better to double check.  Instinct was right now screaming at him to double check.

 

“He’s going to have O two, vitals, lines…”  Alex put the rucksack on the ground, took off her hi-vis jacket and accepted the hard hat with headtorch already mounted on it from the fire fighter.

 

“Everything and the kitchen sink then.  C’mon mate.”  And, turning as one, Hari and Fletch disappeared off in the general direction of where all the ambulances were parked, Fletch hoping to find one of the ‘Holby regulars’ that would be amenable to having their kit nicked.

 

“Ready to go Doc.”  Giving the rope line that was now fastened onto Alex’s harness a sharp tug, the firefighter was satisfied that everything was in order.

 

“Thanks.”  Putting the jacket and rucksack back on, Alex looked to Matt and Major Toby Horbain, seeing they were also now attached to rope lines and were also wearing hard hats with torches.  “Shall we?”  Without giving them a second glance Alex set off, following the firefighter the short distance across the car park to the next firefighter who, double checking her harness, then led her across the unstable section of tarmac and up to the edge of the collapsed drain.

 

* * *

 

 

“...well done Ro,” declared Bernie, straightening back up and running her forearm across her forehead, oblivious to the grime that she was streaking onto her face.

 

“Bern?”

 

Hearing her name called, Bernie looked up and smiled in relief when she saw Alex leaning over the top of the ladder, her head torch shining a strong beam of light down onto them.

 

“Hey you...“  Looking across at Steve, she tried to guess at how he was faring.  “You and Ro manage on your own together for a minute while I go up?”

 

“Cap’n D’s here…” mumbled Ro sleepily, having recognised Alex’s voice, surprising Steve who hadn’t realised that the various conversations he’d been party to had actually all been about the same person.  “Li’ las’ time…”

 

“Yes she is,” agreed Bernie, pleased that despite the distinctive sound of the helicopter just now, Ro had managed to stay with them in the present rather than flashback to Afghanistan and that helicopter rescue.  “Back in a minute.”  Giving Ro a final glance over, and checking that her stethoscope was still balanced squarely around her neck, she reached for the ladder that the fire brigade had managed to now get fairly securely set up for them and climbed back out to the surface.

 

“How is he?” asked Matt, almost before Bernie had made it to the top of the ladder.

 

Knowing how acute Ro’s hearing had become since he lost the majority of his sight, Bernie deliberately waited until she had climbed the ladder, stepped off it, untangled her rope line from the ladder and moved a few steps away from the opening, so far in fact that they were no longer protected from the rain by the tarpaulins.

 

“Ears as sharp as ever,” was all she said, but it was enough as Matt had the decency to look momentarily sheepish.

 

“Definitely trapped?” asked Alex, hoping that there had been a final miracle and somehow they weren’t going to have to do this.

 

“Yes.”  Bernie stripped off her gloves and took off her hardhat, relishing the opportunity to run her fingers through her hair and rub the back of her neck, dislodging the bun she’d twisted her hair into in the process.  “And he’s starting to get wet.”

 

At this, Matt looked up, as if to wordlessly draw Bernie’s attention to the heavily falling rain that she was seemingly oblivious to now they were standing around without the benefit of a tent above them.  He, despite his uniform being designed to be worn in all manner of weather, was very aware of the downpour they were currently stood in and he didn’t even know how Bernie was coping in just her hospital shirt.  However, before Bernie could educate him, they heard someone shouting.

 

“Major?”  As one, the two Majors turned in response to their rank being called.

 

“Yes?”  As they answered, Catherine ‘Kit Kat’ Kitters came to a splashy stop and looked between them.

 

“You Major.”  She pointed to Bernie.  “Didn’t know there were two of you now.”

 

“Toby Horbain, Royal Marines.”  As she shook his hand, Kit Kat looked at Bernie for an explanation.

 

“He’s the one with a helicopter,” said Bernie simply, realising that there were some introductions outstanding.  “Alex Dawson, you’ve already spoken on the phone...Matt Dawson, Royal Marines and yes, they are related.”  She waited a moment while there was a quick round of head nodding as the introductions were acknowledged.  “You came here with purpose?”

 

“Yes.”  Kit Kat took a second to try to work out if there was a slightly tactful way of saying what she had to say, before deciding that not only was there probably not, but based on what she’d seen so far this evening she doubted Major Wolfe would hold it against her.  “Short version?”  She saw Bernie’s sharp nod and realised that she had been right not to worry about being overly blunt.  “This rain’s got here faster than expected and is heavier than expected...”

 

“Give me the really short version,” interrupted Bernie, starting to have a pretty good idea where this conversation was going.

 

“Really short version?  Ok.  Based on everything, in thirty minutes I tell my guys to pull up the ladder and get the hell back.”

 

“I see.”  Oblivious to the fact that she was being soaked to the skin, Bernie looked at Alex and, as Matt would later say when he was talking to Serena, they had one of ‘those weird conversations where their faces twitch but they don’t say anything.’

 

“And if we’re at the bottom of the ladder still?” asked Major Horbain, having a fairly good idea what the answer probably was, but wanting to hear it, if only so the firefighter could confirm later that she had advised them of the risk.

 

“The amount of water coming through the drain system might force you on to the wash out in the Bristol Channel, unless you’re impaled on something before then.  Assuming you do get washed out and not pinned when this whole area collapses which is what we’re thinking is most likely given the water table, geology, drain structures…” Kit Kat trailed off, her posture and tone indicating that she rather hoped he’d got the message.  Her plan for the rest of the night did not include having people drown in this car park.

 

“I see.”  Major Horbain looked at his watch, fixing in his mind the time that the Fire Brigade were working to for the start of the scene evacuation.  “Still, it could be worse.”

 

“How?”  Kit Kat was struggling to see what the bright side of this situation was.

 

“More than one trapped casualty and no Major Wolfe.”  He glanced around, taking in the bright lights of the emergency vehicles and, beyond the trees on the far side of the cordoned off car park, the headlights of the traffic passing by on the motorway.  “Or people shooting at us.”

 

“No thank you,” said Bernie briskly, rejoining the conversation as abruptly as she had seemingly zoned out of it.  “That was in Bosnia.”  Not seeing the need to explain herself any further, Bernie efficiently wound her hair back up into its bun and put her hard hat back on, checking the light still worked.  “Let’s have the stretcher in place under another tent please, and the helicopter nearby.  I want to have him airborne within five minutes of getting to the surface.  Toby, you’ll coordinate?” He gave her a sharp nod, having expected it - he was harnessed and roped so there was nothing stopping him getting to the edge of the sinkhole, but he was very aware that his skills were of more use to Ro on the surface than down in the drain with the doctors.   “Matt?”

 

“Yes Ma’am?”  This morning he’d been calling her Bernie and giving her a hug, but that was when she’d been only just awake and he’d been saying goodbye to his sister’s girlfriend.  Now, in his admittedly somewhat biased opinion, she was the answer to every wounded soldier’s prayer.

 

“You’re with us.  Do you know any pirate jokes?”  

 

* * *

  
  


“So, er, do much of this?” asked Fletch, cringing at how stupid his question sounded but he was finding standing in silence in the gazebo tent thing that was keeping them and the stretcher dry unnerving.

 

“Hang around in Service Station car parks?” Hari grinned when he saw the nurse’s instinctive reaction was best described as ‘are you mad mate?’ before clearly some sort of presumed need for self-preservation kicked in and he tried to look for a convenient hole in the ground to swallow him.  “Nah, first time.  Done a bit more nipping in and out of helicopters mind…” He looked around at the drenched car park, large spaces left in total darkness while others were drowned in the bright light of temporary floodlights as the emergency services tried to stabilise as much of the ground as possible.  “You?”

 

“Nah…”  Seeing the Marine’s grin, Fletch realised he could relax as he was not the only one finding how the evening had turned out to be somewhat out of the ordinary.  “He a good mate?” Fletch hadn’t quite worked out how everyone knew each other, but he imagined that it took a bit of a connection to see you stood out in a storm at almost midnight, nevermind borrow a helicopter.

 

“Yeah...we did basic training together, the four of us…”  Hari rolled his shoulders to work out some of the stiffness, instinctively checking his green beret was still in the correct position afterwards.  “...somehow hung together through the next couple of years and then went on tour.  Batz and Bart had just got their stripes...Jako and me, we took the piss a bit.”

 

“Bart?”  Fletch knew that ‘Batz’ was their patient and had heard the other Marine, the one still on the helicopter, called ‘Jako’ by Hari, but he couldn’t understand who Bart was.

 

“Matt…” Hari jerked his head in the direction of the hive of activity around Ro.  “...As in Simpson.”

 

“Dr D’s brother?”  Fletch thought for a moment, trying to work out why Matt Dawson might have ‘Bart’ as a nickname.  “Does that mean her nickname’s ‘Lisa’?”

 

“Not if you value your balls Mate,” declared Hari promptly, eying Fletch seriously.  “Bart would be the first one to remove them and unlike the Cap, he don’t know much about pain relief.”

 

“Gotcha.”  Fletch was still confused as to how the nickname had come about, but understood when to back off, at least on the nickname.  “So you knew them before?  Dr D and Ms Wolfe?”

 

“Before?”  It took Hari a minute to realise Fletch was using ‘before’ as a euphemism for ‘being in Afghanistan’.  “I met the Captain not long after we’d all got our berets.  And I think I might have braced up to the Major…” Hari saw Fletch’s confusion and worked out where he’d lost the nurse.  “Got our berets…” He pointed to the green beret on his head.  “...when we completed basic training and joined our units.  And brace up…” He demonstrated by standing to attention, his back straight and shoulders back, his hands instinctively snapping into the right alignment with imaginary trouser seams, only to relax back again and continue talking.  “Is what we do to Officers.”

 

“I thought that was saluting?”  Fletch remembered his crash course lesson in military etiquette from Alex back in the summer when he’d nearly lost an eye to Bernie’s elbow.

 

“Only if you’re wearing headdress.”  Hari knew he was going into more detail than he needed to, but he was anxious for Ro, and nerves made him rather obsessive with details.  “Unless you’re at Camp Bastion.  There we didn’t have to salute…”  There was something in his expression that made Fletch decide it was probably a long story and something to ask Bernie or Alex about one day if he really wanted to know.  “But I only really talked to her yesterday.”

 

“Yesterday?  Oh, you were in Holby…you met Ms Wolfe?”

 

“Yeah, we all went to the…” Hari stumbled to a halt when he got the strong sense that he was telling Fletch something he didn’t already know.  “...uh, we all had dinner together.”

 

“Are you telling me Ms Wolfe and Dr D went clubbing?”  Fletch was grinning, far too expert at sniffing out good gossip to let this go now.  “As in loud music, bright flashing lights and dancing clubbing?”

 

“There were a few of us…” protested Hari weakly, never having been very good at bluffing his way out of these sorts of moments.  Fighting his way out of an enemy-held stronghold was one thing, but dodging an experienced gossip gatherer?  He was doomed.  “And we all had dinner before…”

 

“Then you three took Dr D and Ms Wolfe clubbing.”  Fletch scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully, before leaning towards Hari as if he was suddenly concerned about being eavesdropped.  “Good dancer is she?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Ms Wolfe?”

 

“Wouldn’t know…”

 

“C’mon mate…”  Fletch thought that Hari was trying to not blab now, but it was, in the nurse’s opinion, a bit late for that now.

 

“No, I mean I wouldn’t know because she didn’t dance…”  He was a Royal Marine Commando, thought Hari, they weren’t supposed to blush.

 

“Didn’t dance?  But what did she…”  Now, it was Fletch’s turn to clam up, suddenly getting a fairly good idea what he worried his kids might be getting up to at the school disco when he didn’t see them on the dance floor.

 

“You’re wanted.”  The firefighter had jogged across the car park, his boots splashing through the puddles, jolting Fletch and Hari back to the reality of their current responsibility.  “At the double apparently.”

 

“Thanks.”  Hari looked at Fletch, all thoughts of talking about anything not directly relevant to getting Ro onto the helicopter and back to Holby gone.  “Ready?”

 

“As we’ll ever be.”  And, checking for the umpteenth time that everything was secure on the stretcher, Fletch and Hari set off into the rain, heading to the little clutch of gazebos and tarpaulins that was creating a dry area over and around the sinkhole Ro had been trapped in.

 

* * *

  
  


“Easy…” warned Alex, watching as the fire brigade pulled a now anaesthetised Ro out of the hole.  It was a fine line between hauling him out quickly and moving him so quickly he was injured further.  “Keep his legs up.”  She ordered, not happy when the straps holding Ro’s legs bent up were not being kept sufficiently taut as he was pulled up, risking them dropping below his hips if Matt couldn’t keep a good hold on them as he followed his friend up.  “Fletch?”  She couldn’t see the nurse’s head peering over the edge of the hole, but she hoped he was near.

 

“Yeah?”  Fletch’s head appeared briefly, looking down to see her half way up the second ladder the fire brigade had managed to get down - it wasn’t as solidly placed as the first one that Ro was currently being lifted up by a mix of ropes from above and Matt on the ladder below him, but it was stable enough for Alex to climb up so she could keep an eye on Ro as he was moved.

 

“His legs need to be elevated.”

 

“On it.”  His head disappeared and he nipped back to the stretcher to work out how to make her request possible.

 

Climbing up another couple of rungs on the ladder, Alex twisted back around so she could watch Ro’s progress, impressed with the way they were managing to get him out with the backboard they had strapped Ro’s torso and head to sliding up the ladder like a sled, guided by her brother.  Pleased with her patient’s progress, Alex risked a quick glance back down into the sinkhole where Bernie was getting ready to come up after Ro.  As Alex’s head torch shone down past Matt, it picked out the edges of the big concrete slabs that had fallen in and luckily only trapped Ro by the legs not his chest.  She saw the ends of exposed rusted steel bars that could have impaled him but fortunately hadn’t.  And then, finally, as her beam of light hit the bottom of the hole, she saw the water, flowing fairly freely and quickly underneath where she had been crouched, on top of another concrete lump, at the right height to be able to monitor Ro’s airway and administer the right drugs.  Looking away while she climbed up another rung and checked Ro’s progress, Alex sighed with relief, glad that they’d managed to get Ro out while he was still dry, relieved that they’d managed to get everything ready in time such that Bernie had been able to save as much of his legs as they had done.  Bernie was a miracle worker in many ways, but even a biased ‘fan’ such as Alex knew that she couldn’t have amputated under water.  

 

Bernie.

 

Shit.

 

Giving Ro one final quick visual check, Alex looked down the hole again, searching for Bernie and catching the surgeon with her torch beam just as she hauled herself back up onto the concrete slabs that had been trapping Ro.  Noticing the extra beam of light, Bernie looked up and, seeing Alex looking down, gave her a thumbs up: she was fine.  Tired and grimy, but fine.  Relieved, Alex returned the thumbs up and then refocused on Ro who was now sufficiently close to the top of his ladder that she could climb up and out of the hole completely and go and meet him with Fletch and the stretcher.

 

* * *

 

“At least I now know what I’m doing before my shift starts tomorrow…” muttered Bernie, looking down at her completely waterlogged trainers, unconcerned about her soaked scrub trousers - those were always destined for the bin as she didn’t think it was fair to ask the hospital laundry service to salvage them.

 

“Oh?”  Steve looked across at the surgeon, the final bag closed and fastened, ready for the fire brigade to haul up in a minute.

 

“New trainers.”  He followed her gaze to her feet, and that was when he had the same realisation that Alex had had a second earlier:  Bernie was absolutely soaked from mid thigh down from whatever it was that was now rushing loudly through what remained of the drain beneath them.  While he, like Alex, had been alternately kneeling or sitting on the slabs alongside Ro so as to be able to monitor his vitals and looking down to work on assisting during the procedure, Bernie had needed to be much closer to the point at which Ro had been pinned.  She had therefore climbed down, off the slabs and found a secure footing lower down within the drain itself, enabling her to be in a better position to do a neat and quick amputation procedure as low down each of Ro’s legs as was possible so as to maximise his future mobility.  She had already worked out where she wanted to stand, where she wanted the tourniquets and where Alex and Steve needed to be before Alex had arrived.  Then, she’d been standing in the dry, but now?  Kit Kat hadn’t been joking when she’d said they had only a short period of time before the water rose to dangerous levels: Bernie must have been standing in above ankle deep water since the start.

 

“Those are done for,” he agreed, not sure what else he could really add and conscious that she’d be heading up the ladder in a second.  “You taking him to Holby General?”

 

“Yes.  AAU ward.”  Picking up the rucksack that Alex had brought down and then reaching for the special bag whose precious but gruesome contents would help them work out what infections they might be needing to watch out for as Ro recovered from surgery, Bernie got ready to climb up the ladder as she, unlike Steve, was going on the helicopter.  “I’ll make sure you’re on the visitor list.”

 

“Thanks.”  He glanced around one final time, making sure there was nothing left that she might need or would find useful to know about the surroundings, knowing that most of their questions would be answered by the pathologists when they looked at the contents of the bag she carried - Ro’s injuries meant that limb reattachment was never an option, but they’d still followed the protocol and packed the ice bag.  Given the environment, infection was pretty much guaranteed, but knowing what the infections might be before Ro made it from theatre to the ward would go a long way to helping maximise his chance of a straightforward recovery.  Seeing nothing had been overlooked, he looked back to her, seeing now that not only was she soaked from mid-thigh down from the storm water, but her scrub shirt was still soaked from when she’d been standing in the rain, leaving her with a grimy but dry middle section.  Not that she’d noticed.

 

“Ready Major!”  came the shout from above as Ro was lifted clear of the ladder, meaning that the fire brigade were ready for her to climb up.  If they’d known she was intending to come up drenched, wearing a rucksack and carrying a bag in her left hand, they might have objected but Bernie was of the opinion that what they didn’t know about they couldn’t get cross over.

 

“On my way.”  Taking firm hold of the ladder rung with her right hand, Bernie climbed up the first couple of rungs and braced herself against the ladder with her left shoulder and hip while she reached up another couple of rungs.  As she repositioned herself to climb a bit higher, she looked back at Steve, her head torch now illuminating the cavern that the drain collapse had created giving her, like it had Alex a minute or so earlier, a fresh perspective and the confirmation that whoever or whatever had been looking out for Ro had worked overtime - all things considered, it could have been much, much worse.  “Don’t hang around too long Steve, water’s rising.”  She climbed up another couple of rungs and repeated the shoulder and hip brace manoeuvre that would enable her to reposition her right hand higher up again.  “I look forward to working with you again, hopefully somewhere with a better ambiance.”  She moved her hand up two rungs.  “Thank you.”  

 

He saw her smile and nod her head slightly, a nod he returned, having learned enough about her in the last couple of hours to understand that her standards were high and praise was rarely given but genuinely meant.

 

“Thanks Major.”  His voice echoed in the cavernous space, his shout louder than he’d intended but knowing she was getting close to the top of the ladder, soon to disappear.  He was under no illusion that climbing up the ladder one handed with the big rucksack and another bag wasn’t as easy as she was making it look and he knew that, when his turn came, he would be much slower.  It wouldn’t surprise him if, by the time he was at the top of the ladder, she and Ro would be gone.

 

Watching her ascent, he saw her get to the top part of the ladder, high enough for her precious cargo to be handed off to an unseen person before other hands reached forwards and relieved her of the rucksack that she’d started shrugging off the second her left hand was free.  As she stepped off the ladder and onto the tarmac edge of the hole, an edge that had been sagging steadily throughout the rescue, she paused and looked back down.

 

“Call me Bernie!”

 

* * *

  
  


“Helo’s touching down in two minutes Major,” reported Toby Horbain, recovered from his initial shock at seeing Ro appearing at the mouth of the hole as he stood waiting for her to be disconnected from the rope line.

 

“Where’s the bag?”  Bernie looked around for the bag she’d carried up, not immediately spotting it in anyone’s hands.

 

“Here…” Toby gestured to where it was sitting on the tarmac, next to the rucksack she’d been wearing.

 

“You hold it until we get to Holby,” said Bernie firmly, her tone making it clear to both the nearest firefighters and Toby that she wasn’t going to tolerate any debate.  “It stays in your hand,” she added, just to make sure he understood.

 

“What is it?”  As he accepted the bag from the firefighter that passed it to him, Toby thought he had a right to know what he was going to be cuddling.

 

“Ro’s feet.”  Not waiting for his reaction, Bernie disentangled herself from the harness which, unlike everyone else’s belonged with the scene not the Marines.  “How’s he doing?”

 

“Stable.”  Alex draped her stethoscope back around her neck, satisfied that Ro had survived the ordeal of being hauled up and settled onto the stretcher with minimal additional trauma.  “Pressure’s steady, temp’s slowed and plasma’s on board.”  Alex nodded towards the end of the stretcher where Ro’s legs were elevated on some pillows and blankets Fletch had assembled like a parcel.  “Dressings clean…”  She looked up at Bernie, a cautious smile on her face.  “Congratulations Ms Wolfe…” she said, getting a sudden flashback to the scan room at Holby the day she’d worked their as a locum, the day her already fractured world had exploded further apart.  “...just like old times…”  However this time, when she looked up at Bernie, their eyes met and there was a warmth in Bernie’s answering smile that Alex suddenly realised was even more intense and bright than when she’d first seen it back in their ‘happy bubble’.

 

“Old times had waterproof boots,” grumbled Bernie, as she completed her own quick examination of their patient, not because she distrusted Alex’s assessment, but because it helped to take her mind off her cold, wet feet.

 

“Christ, you’re soaked.”

 

“Thank you Fletch, I hadn’t noticed.”  Bernie’s retort proved that there was only one bit of her that was still definitely dry - her sense of humour.

 

“Major?”  Bernie turned and saw the senior ambulance service person coming towards them.

 

“Yes?”  It took Bernie a moment, but she remembered the woman’s name was Georgie.

 

“Your phone…”  Georgie held out Bernie’s mobile phone and Holby ID badge, which Bernie had sensibly not wanted to join her down in the drain where they would have almost certainly failed to survive.

 

“Thanks…” Bernie went to take them only to be reminded of her soaking wet clothes.

 

“I’ll take them,” volunteered Matt, stepping forwards, grateful for something to do.  “In my pocket for you Ma’am.”

 

“Thanks Matt.  And thank you Georgie…”  Bernie smiled at the ambulance service leader.

 

Before anyone could add anything else, the sound of the helicopter approaching distracted most people as they turned to watch the big helicopter start to descend, the sound of its engines and rotors thudding.  Bernie, Alex and Hari however, remained focused on Ro, making sure that the wind didn’t dislodge anything from the stretcher, with Fletch joining in after only a quick glance at the big brute of a machine.

 

“It going to do that flying on the ground thing again?” he asked Hari, having to raise his voice as he worked alongside his colleagues.

 

“Yeah.”  Hari caught Bernie’s questioning glance as she looked past him to the helicopter, working out how far they had to go.  “We’re touch and go Ma’am.  Here and Holby.”

 

“Understood.”  Bernie looked at Alex, accepting the news about the helicopter without question but now finding she had new questions, namely how they were going to transfer Ro onto the helicopter.

 

“It’s not a medivac,” shouted Alex, taking off her hard hat and passing it to a firefighter before reaching across the stretcher and taking Bernie’s off, the surgeon having forgotten she was wearing it.  “So the stretcher’s coming with us.”

 

“It’s all coming with us,” added Fletch helpfully, gesturing to various machines and oxygen tanks that were either on the stretcher with Ro or being held by firefighters and paramedics that were stood around the stretcher.  Alex hadn’t been joking when she’d said she wanted ‘everything’ and even for a short flight, ‘everything’ required spares.

 

Looking past Bernie again, Fletch saw the big helicopter was now looking like it was sitting on the ground, its side door open.  Seeing the lad on the helicopter, Jako, give a thumbs up sign which the other Major acknowledged with both a thumbs up to the helicopter and a shout to ‘move out’, Fletch felt Hari start to move prompting him to do the one thing Serena had sort of made him promise not to do: he grabbed Hari’s sleeve and tugged hard to get the big Marine to stop.

 

“Wait for the Docs!”  If Bernie or Alex weren’t happy, helicopter or no helicopter, they’d be staying right where they were.

 

“Where’s his rucksack?” asked Bernie suddenly, remembering a police officer appearing with it some time earlier.

 

“Coming with us,” said Matt promptly, having been given it by someone almost the second he was clear of the ladder.

 

“Happy?” Bernie looked to Alex, not needing to qualify her question, to explain that ‘happy’ was a relative term, that all she wanted to know was whether their patient was stable enough which, as Bernie had explained to Serena over her peace offering wine and take away, wasn’t always the same as what Bernie had observed the staff in Holby considered to be ‘stable’.

 

“Happy,” confirmed Alex having checked Ro one final time and adjusted the drip rate on a couple of his lines.

 

“Move out!”  This time, when the order was given, there was no mistaking it for the order to move as everyone, civilian and military, medical or non-medical, recognised Bernie’s request as the order it was.

 

There was no time for thank yous, or handshakes or pats on the back for a job well done, not that anyone noticed or missed them because that wasn’t why all the people that this accident had brought together did what they did.  Whether firefighter or paramedic, Marine Commando or police officer, doctor or nurse, they didn’t do what they did for the praise: they did it because it was what they trained for.

 

As Jako slammed the door of the helicopter shut and let the flight crew know that they were able to take to the air again, Matt and Major Horbain watched with a mixture of pride and worry as Bernie, Alex and Fletch, with Hari’s assistance, carried on working on Ro.  Clearly, getting him out of the hole had only been the beginning.

* * *

 

 

Back at the scene, Kit Kat and Georgie stood together, watching the big helicopter rise up off the ground and, once clear of the trees surrounding the service station car park, turn and set off for Holby.

 

“That was…”

 

“Different?” suggested Kit Kat, glancing at her watch and seeing the time.

 

“Impressive and miraculous,” corrected Georgie as she watched the helicopter disappear into the dark night sky, “and different,” she conceded, not wanting to think about what would have happened to the casualty if Bernie Wolfe hadn’t been on shift and somehow have the reputation to magic up a helicopter.

 

“How did she get the helicopter?”  Kit Kat knew Georgie had spoken to the officer that came with the helicopter and hoped she’d have the details.

 

“All that he’d say was that if we’d been to as many hotspots as her and saved as many soldiers, sailors and airmen as she had, we’d be able to borrow a helicopter too…”  She looked at Kit Kat and shrugged.  “Do you remember the gossip about the St James’ ortho consultant?”

 

“Which bit?”  The firefighter smirked, remembering the tit bits she’d overheard during various combined emergency services conferences and seminars when the firefighters mixed with the paramedics and hospital staff across the Wyvern Service’s area.  “The bit where his wife left him and he did the vindictive bitch routine?  Or the part where she’d left him for another woman?”

 

“Both…”  Georgie’s grin if anything got broader.  “She’s his ex-wife…”

 

“Bernie Wolfe is Dunn’s ex wife?”  Kit Kat’s eyes widened at that particular bit of news, struggling to picture the two of them together.  “She’d rung rings around him...wait…”  Finding her eyes were already as open as they’d get, she had no option but to let her jaw drop slightly when she realised the significance of the second piece of gossip about Marcus Dunn’s divorce.  “She left him for a woman?”

 

“Yup.”  Georgie knew that now the casualty was safely on his way to Holby albeit by rather unconventional means, her role on scene had come to an end and, once the kit was back on the ambulances, they’d head back to their various ambulance stations to wait for the next emergency calls, leaving the scene to Kit Kat and her firefighters.  “That other doctor.”

 

“Alex Dawson?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“There’s a song about that.”

 

“What are you on about now?” asked Georgie, not surprised by her friend’s random change of subject but unable to work out what she was going on about.

 

“All the best women are married...and all the handsome ones are gay!”  As she spoke, the firefighter made a show of checking her watch, the lights they’d erected to work by catching on her wedding ring, making Georgie shake her head in a mixture of despair and amusement.

 

“Have you just quoted Robbie Williams lyrics at me?”

 

“Maybe?”

 

“Idiot.”  Georgie knew they both had to get back to work, and that her friend’s night was going to be much longer than hers as alongside the task of getting the casualty out, Kit Kat’s firefighters were trying to stabilise the whole car park area and work with road and water authority engineers to make sure that the motorway itself wasn’t liable to collapse.  Preparing to head back over to her crews to join in the packing away and to congratulate all of them, but especially Steve on a job well done, she paused and looked back at her friend, a fresh grin forming on her face.

 

“What?”  Kit Kat knew that grin and waited for her friend to explain.

 

“You think I’m handsome!”


	9. Chapter 9

“How is he?”  Matt was on his feet the moment he saw Bernie appear in the doorway of the family room.

 

“I don’t know yet.”  Bernie shut the door behind her and looked from Matt to Toby Horbain who was doing a rather good impression of someone attempting to look invisible.  “I’ll go find out in a minute.  Have you got my pass?”

 

“Oh, yes.”  Looking a bit embarrassed that he’d forgotten, realising too that she was probably unable to go anywhere very much without her hospital pass, Matt extracted her ID and mobile phone and held them out to her.  “Uh, there’s pizza on its way.”

 

“Thanks.”  Bernie clipped her pass onto her black shirt.  “Pizza?”

 

“Ham and pineapple for you.”  None of the Marines were hungry, not after seeing Ro like he had been, but Alex had sent a message back to them via Fletch as she headed into theatre with Ro that Bernie needed food.  “Ronnie’s suggestion.”

 

“Ronnie?”

 

“I texted him.”  Matt stretched his neck, feeling a bit uncomfortable under her scrutiny.  “He says hi, and he doesn’t believe you went clubbing and Charlie says she’s only going to believe it if there’s photographic evidence.”

 

“I don’t want to know how my children know…” Actually, looking at him, Bernie realised she already knew the answer - Matt and Alex had the same sort of squirming fidget when they were trying to keep their expressions from giving themselves away.  “And is there?”

 

“Is there what?”

 

“Photographic evidence?”  Not that she cared really, one way or another, being neither embarrassed that she’d gone to the...whatever it was...nor ashamed of anything that might be captured in a photograph, but she realised she would like to know.  It had taken a while to get used to the idea that she and Alex could openly have photographs of each other and ones of them together at that, but now that she was used to the idea, she liked having the odd photograph, even if she was still fundamentally camera shy.

 

Again, Matt had given himself away without answering.

 

“I’ll go find out how Ro’s doing and be right back.”  

 

In truth, if she hadn’t had to come find him to reclaim her Holby pass first, she’d have gone from the locker room straight to theatre to get an update.  More to the point, if she hadn’t been unable to tolerate the smell of sewer that was still clinging to her she’d have probably been trying to go into theatre with Ro.  As it was, when they’d been met at Holby by Serena, Henrik and a whole surgical team, she’d been relieved to hand Ro over to them and instead squelched her way to the locker room where she’d stripped off her stinking soaked clothes and stood under a very hot shower for several minutes, finally permitting herself to notice how cold and wet she’d got.  Getting dressed in the clothes she’d worn to come to work at the start of her shift, she wasn’t surprised to discover she was tired - her shift had been supposed to finish less than an hour after she’d received the call from the ED that had started this whole evening’s adventure.

 

“Thanks ...”  

 

Sitting back down, Matt ran his hands through his hair, feeling his nerves ease just a touch - there was something very reassuring about Bernie being relaxed.  While he’d not been happy when it had become clear that Bernie wasn’t going to go and operate on Ro, Matt could read his sister well enough to know that she was happier once Bernie had accepted that these other surgeons would do the operation.  It had taken Matt a bit to work out what caused Alex to react like that, but he then remembered that his sister worked with these other surgeons as well as Bernie and clearly she thought they were good enough for Ro.  Only then did he also realise how little sleep Bernie must have had last night, being unable to have the nap Alex had mentioned as being her big afternoon plan after waving him off from the station before going to meet Bernie at the end of her shift...which, looking at his watch, must have been hours ago.

 

“You know the Major’s kids?”

 

“Hmm?”  Looking across the room at his CO, Matt shook himself into paying attention.  “Sorry Sir.  Yes, I know her kids.  Ronnie, uh, Cameron and Charlotte.”  Seeing the look on his CO’s face, Matt was suddenly relieved that he’d checked with Alex last night about whether she and Bernie could still get in trouble with the Army for their relationship.  “She’s…” his mind went blank as to how to describe their relationship.  “...with my sister.”

 

“With as in…”

 

“Yes.  They’re together.”  Matt watched his boss carefully, well versed in discerning if people were accepting of his sister or having a problem with her.  This was a new situation for him, as he knew the Major was more acquainted with Bernie than Alex, but as far as Matt was concerned, Bernie was now just another older sister to look out for.  

 

“Good to know, I must tell Jan.”  That had not been the reaction Matt was expecting as he searched his memory, trying to place who ‘Jan’ was.

 

“Your fiancee Sir?”

  
“Believe it or not, the Major introduced us...we’re doing the invites to the wedding soon, I must make sure we include your sister.”  Toby blushed, realising something else he’d forgotten to mention to Matt when they’d met up at the Base earlier in the day.  “I’d meant to ask, do you think Ro would be interested in being DJ for the reception….and would you be a groomsman or whatever they’re called Matt?”

 

“I’m not sure if Ro knows any old school cheese Sir…” teased Matt, relieved that his Boss had taken Alex and Bernie’s relationship in his fairly laid back stride.  “But he’s got time to be educated.”

 

“Less of the old thank you…” grumbled Toby in good humour - he suspected he was about the same age as Alex, and was certainly younger than Bernie but was too polite to mention it.  “And what about the groomsman?”

 

“Is that the male version of a bridesmaid?”  Matt looked down at his legs and considered his rather large boots.  “I didn’t know you wanted to see me in a dress Sir.”

 

“Cheeky sod.”  In spite of everything with Ro, Toby found himself unable to stop himself from grinning and miming throwing his beret at his Sergeant.  “Why couldn’t you just say yes like the others?”

 

* * *

  
  


Finding the operating theatre that Ro was in, Bernie was surprised to find the observation room was already occupied by Sacha Levy and Ric Griffin.  In her experience, few of the consultants ever observed each other operating unless there was an HR issue or new procedure, and even then 11am on a Thursday was invariably more popular than just after midnight in the early hours of Monday morning.

 

“Gentlemen…”  Ostensibly showing no interest in her colleagues outside the operating theatre, Bernie looked through the observation window, taking in Alex perched on her stool, monitoring Ro’s status at the head of the bed and Serena and Hanssen stood together at the other end of the bed, working on Ro’s legs.  At first glance, all looked as she’d expect it to, but then Alex turned slightly, evidently answering a question Serena or Hanssen had asked and Bernie was surprised to see she was masked.

 

“Ms Wolfe…” Sacha looked sideways at her, noticing as he did so that she wasn’t ignoring them as much as he’d assumed - if you looked into theatre with your head at a slight angle, you could see theatre and the reflections of the people stood in observation.  Unsurprisingly, her head was at an angle.

 

“Bernie.”  Ric looked away from the operation and studied her for a moment.  “Quite an evening.”

 

“Oh?”  Bernie waited for Alex to swivel back on her stool so that she wasn’t blocking Bernie’s view of Ro’s head and neck, hoping she’d see something that would help explain why, despite being behind the ether screen, Alex was wearing a mask.  “Exciting case?”

 

“Well…”  Ric and Sacha exchanged a glance, trying to work out where she was coming from with her question.  “Yes…”  Ric shot Sacha a look that clearly suggested he wasn’t appreciating Sacha’s deference to Ric for this conversation, much to Bernie’s silent amusement.

 

“Which one of you operated?” Bernie was only really making conversation to be polite - she’d not expected company and had planned on waiting until she could see there was a suitable moment in the procedure to ask over the speaker how things were going.  “Strange time for an elective…” she continued, not wanting to outright challenge her colleagues on their Sunday lists always being a bit lighter than a weekday one.  Trauma on the other hand, had no respect for the weekend, in fact often it was worse on weekends than weekdays.

 

“Umm…”  There was something about the way Sacha was fidgeting that made Bernie pay them more attention - if only because the reflection of his patterned shirt was making it hard for her to see Ro clearly.  “It wasn’t…that is...”

 

“You mean this?”  Bernie rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to consider the operation they were currently observing from a non-military perspective.  “Looks pretty textbook to me.” On the other hand, she could now see that it might qualify as ‘exciting’ for her colleagues: certainly the last few months had been rather bereft of field surgery, with the most unusual locations for her to be treating patients turning out to be the coffee shop and a scan room, and those had been mostly surgical airways.

 

Alex had wheeled herself around the head of the bed, seeing her return to the patient’s left side which Bernie absently remembered as being Alex’s preferred side to monitor from. Not only did this mean that Bernie now had a clear view of Ro’s head, but it raised a new question for her - why had Alex been on the ‘wrong’ side in the first place?  However, before she could give this too much thought, she was distracted by a tap on the glass - clearly Alex had spotted her in the observation room and had asked one of the theatre nurses to attract her attention.  Reaching up, Bernie keyed the speaker button before waiting a moment while Serena and Hanssen were caught up with her presence.

 

“Ms Wolfe…”  Bernie watched as Hanssen handed his scalpel back to the nurse and then looked past Serena to her.

 

“Mr Hanssen.  How’s our patient?”

 

“Coming along nicely, wouldn’t you agree Ms Campbell?”

 

“Yes…”  Serena finished her suture and then turned so she could see Bernie, smiling despite her surgical mask making it impossible for anyone to see her expression.  “Are you dried out now?”

 

“Yes thanks.  How’s Ro doing?”  Bernie couldn’t really see anything of Ro’s legs from where she was standing, but she had at least now solved the mystery of why Alex was masked.  “Have Plastics looked at his face?”

 

“He’s doing well,” assured Alex, double checking his vitals and making a microscopic adjustment to something or other, Bernie couldn’t quite work out what from this distance.  “And yes, his face is fine, a bit bashed and scraped but x-rays are clear.  They cleaned up all his cuts while he’s here to make it easier for him later.  But it explains the…”  Alex wrinkled her nose to demonstrate her disdain for the mask, knowing it made the paper crinkle and move in a way that always amused Bernie on the few occasions a patient’s situation meant Alex found herself in the sterile area.

 

“Thanks, I’ll leave you to it.”  Knowing how irritating pointless conversation could be during a surgery, Bernie switched off the intercom.  After watching the surgery in silence for a couple of minutes more, Bernie was satisfied that she’d seen enough.  Turning to leave the observation room, she paused when she saw Ric was studying what she realised was a page from a research paper.  Intrigued, she waited until he reached the bottom of the page and watched as he turned to the next page - she’d hoped to get a brief glimpse of the title of the paper or a diagram perhaps so she could get a sense of what general field the paper might be on.  Instead, she saw a photograph of something she immediately recognised.  Taking a second to compose herself, knowing it would be unprofessional to be caught smirking, she prepared to leave the observation room.  “Gentlemen…” she acknowledged, attracting the attention of Sacha and Ric long enough to garner nods and muttered ‘Ms Wolfe’s.

 

She nearly managed to leave without saying anything further, but she made the mistake of glancing back into theatre and happened to recognise the instrument that was being passed to Serena.

 

“You need to turn the page Ric, she’s got ahead of you.”

 

“What on…”  Ric turned the page as instructed before realising what he’d done, only to the look up and turn to where Ms Wolfe had been standing but now was not.

 

“She’s right…” observed Sacha thoughtfully, taking the printout of the medical journal paper and turning the page to see that yes, Serena had got slightly ahead of them.  “...how did she know?” he wondered, taking a couple of steps to his left so he was standing where she would have been.  “She couldn’t see the incision.”

 

“She didn’t need to,” retorted Ric gruffly, having just spotted what it was that she must have seen.  “She saw the scalpel and she’s done this before.”

 

“Yes, but…” Looking at the page he was holding once more, Sacha instinctively turned back to the first page and skimmed the article abstract before noting the title and the author.  “Oh.”  

 

“Yes.”  Ric took the paper back from Sacha and, after a quick glance at the title, turned back to where Bernie had correctly said he needed to be if he wanted to continue to follow the operation in theatre and on the page.

 

“I wonder what the G stands for…”  

 

It took Ric a moment to work out what he thought Sacha was talking about, but to make doubly certain, he turned back to the front page of the copy of  _ ‘The New Surgical Objective: reducing the time from trauma to prosthetic _ ,’ which recorded the leading contributor to be one ‘B. G. Wolfe’ followed by a string of professional titles and qualifications, many of which were not that different to Ric’s.

 

“Griselda apparently.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

* * *

  
  


“Hari?”  Glancing over his shoulder, checking that none of the hospital’s top ten grapevine feeders were in sight, Dom crossed the deserted roadway, not sure if he was being an idiot or a fool.

 

“Dom.”  Stubbing out his cigarette on the wall, Hari looked around for a suitable bin to put the extinguished cigarette in and, as a result, ended up meeting Dom under a particularly bright light.  “Wow, you look…”

 

“Shattered?”  Dom pulled a face at Hari and pulled him into a slightly more shadowy and therefore hopefully flattering spot that was virtually where Hari had been stood in the first place.  “Thanks.”  He knew he felt almost dead on his feet, so could only imagine how he must look after a late night clubbing and his shift which had finally finished just over half an hour ago, a mere six hours or so after peak hangover.  “Look at you all dressed up in your little soldier suit…”  He waved his hand, meaning his comment to be suggesting his ‘friend’ from last night had perhaps overdone the commitment to fancy-dress when he realised that the whole outfit looked a little too neat to be fancy dress...  It was also helping him to ignore the rising panic: he’d not got any sense that last night had been anything other than an one-off thing for either of them and he’d not actually told him when his shift ended.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“Waiting for the pizza delivery guy.”

 

“Seriously?”  Dom was struggling to control his conflicting emotions - the part of him that had thoroughly enjoyed last night was wanting to start up with the flirting and teasing and generally start planning to enjoy himself all over again.  But the part of him that still felt the pain from the wounds that Lee had inflicted made him cautious and suspicious in a way that he was at least able to acknowledge Hari hadn’t done anything to deserve.  Then again, warned that little voice that wouldn’t let him forget, neither had Lee…  “Explain yourself.  You’re confusing me.”

 

“Right this second, I’m stood here waiting for the pizza delivery guy who’s supposed to be bringing the Major’s pizza.”  Hari grimaced.  “Ham and pineapple.”

 

“Seriously? Pineapple? On a pizza?”  Dom’s grimace was instinctive and genuine.

 

“I know, but do not let the Major see you react like that.”

 

“You keep saying Major…”  The little voice that made him suspicious of anyone friendly, stopped shouting quite so loudly.  He only knew one ‘Major’.  “Do you mean Ms Wolfe?”

 

“Yeah.”  Hari rocked forwards and back on his feet, suddenly feeling nervous, knowing what was probably coming next.

 

“How do you know Ms Wolfe?” Dom’s head was canted to the side, his expression a mixture of curiosity and thoughtfulness.  “You didn’t say anything…”

 

“She didn’t exactly come up in conversation…” pointed out Hari, the big Marine looking rather shy and nervous, not exactly sure what the etiquette was when you met your one night stand the following evening after a fun but amicably understood one off evening.

 

He and Dom shared a look, the gist of which was ‘yes, well, not much came up in conversation’ alongside some rather delicate blushes on boths sides.

 

“...but she sort of...well...introduced us.”

 

* * *

 

_ He’d liked her, Bernie, once he’d got over his nervousness and relaxed enough to not worry about her age or that he had a bit of an eye for the boys, starting with the barman at the pub they’d all met up at, bit shorter than him and fit...fun but not quite right...their banter as he’d placed the order had been flirty but felt practiced...the sort of cheekiness that was scripted and prepared rather than natural and instinctive.  Her smirk and wink had told him she approved of his decision to say ‘thanks but not tonight’ and to keep his options open... _

 

_ It had all nearly gone wrong when she’d revealed she knew their CO before, when he’d been newly commissioned...put him back on edge and nervous, unable to relax or even chew his dinner... Funny how in that moment he totally forgot all the little signs and signals they’d been sending, her and the Captain, that he’d automatically noticed.  The casual touches, sitting close, their bodies leaning into each other when they were in the pub… the brief kiss when Bernie, no the Major, had promised to catch them up after she’d gone to the cash machine across the road… She’d understood his conflict and confusion though and let him be while he’d taken the calming breathes and squashed his rising panic.  But now he’d managed to relax again, ready to believe she wasn’t one of the ‘old school’ of officers whose regiments and brigades had no room for men like him whose head was turned by other men… _

 

_ Now, returning from the dance floor, feeling his shirt starting to stick to him between his shoulder blades from trying to keep pace with Ro’s latest tracks, he caught the bottle of water tossed to him by Jako and, when he’d downed half of it, had asked his friend what he thought of the guy he’d just been dancing with. _

 

_ “His name’s Dom.” _

 

_ Surprised, he’d spun round, not realising she’d been listening or, more accurately, that he’d been shouting so loud and so obvious in his intentions. _

 

_ “What?”  He moved nearer to her, discovering as he leant against the railing next to her that she’d found a brilliant vantage point, able to see the dance floor and Ro’s DJ’s booth, when she wasn’t more interested in Alex. _

 

_ “Ginger to your Fred just now…”  He grinned at her comment, having worked out enough about her now to understand her sense of humour.  “His name’s Dom.” _

 

_ “You know him?”  For a frantic moment, he tried to remember if he’d heard that name before, worried as to who this ‘Dom’ might be and who he might be to her...but she seemed relaxed and happy so hopefully he hadn’t made a mess of anything...yet. _

 

_ “Junior Doctor.  Al knows him too.” _

 

_ “Doctor?  At your hospital?” _

 

_ “Surgeon.”  Her grin grew and her eyes sparkled, full of mischief which put him at his ease.  “Talented hands…” _

* * *

 

 

“I don’t understand…” Frowning, and no longer sleepy, Dom tried to work out what the Marine was implying, his stomach starting to churn when his gut instinct formed the conclusion before his brain did.  “...no!”

 

“Umm…”

 

“Really?”  Hari saw in Dom’s expression that he’d put the pieces of the jigsaw together.

 

“Yup.”

 

“She was there?”  Dom’s eyes were wide in disbelief, his jaw dropped open in a mixture of disbelief and amazed respect for the consultant.  “You’re telling me Ms Wolfe was…”  He waved his hand about, expressively, finding he couldn’t actually find the words.

 

“Yeah…”  Hari grinned, sharing Dom’s amusement and disbelief, amusement that grew when Dom slightly wiggled his hips as if to suggest dancing.

 

“No….”

 

“No?”  Dom looked skeptical.  “But if she didn’t…” Another hip wiggle.

 

“Ah…”  Hari ran his thumb over his eyebrow and leaned forwards, glancing around in case anyone was showing too much interest in their chat.  “Captain Dawson was there too…”

 

“Cap…”  This time, Dom’s eyes went extra wide and he felt his stomach fall to his ankles.  “You mean Alex?  Alex Dawson?  Dr Dawson, Anaesthetist and...” another hand waggle filled his sudden silence..

 

“Yeah...they were there til after we’d…” Hari hadn’t realised how useful hand signals were in civilian contexts until now.

 

“I’m dead.”

 

“Really?  Cos you’re looking…” Hari’s appraising glance conveyed he thought Dom looked just as appealing by the fluorescent light of the Wyvern Wing entrance as by flashing strobe light last night.

 

“So very, very dead….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far, hope you're enjoying it.
> 
> The rest will be posted soon...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for some occasional bits of strong language and a couple of more direct descriptions of trauma/wounds inflicted during conflict. Still consistent/less graphic than anything you'd see in an episode...

“What will happen?  To Ro I mean?”  From a distance, Matt Dawson looked to be the perfect Royal Marine, sat upright and square in the chair, his hands resting on his knees, uniform still somehow seemingly neat and tidy despite his brief adventure into the drains.  However, looking more closely, past the military mannerisms and Bernie saw the hand holding his beret was clenched tight and the muscles of his jaw and neck were taut with nervous anxiety.

 

“He’ll stay here, at Holby, for a few days…” began Bernie, glancing across at Major Horbain who was sat a few chairs away, still trying to look invisible but she knew he was listening intently.  “To make sure that he’s not got any infections or complications from the drain…and for the swelling around his eye to go down.”  She smiled at Matt when he looked sharply at her, trying to be reassuring without speaking out of turn.  “I spoke to Al, just now...he’s been checked out in theatre by the Plastic Surgeons…” The small degree of reassurance she’d provided was now replaced by confusion at the mention of different surgeons.  “We wanted to check that the swelling around his left eye was because of the cuts and scrapes…”  She saw his jaw relax a fraction as her words started to sink in.  “...they took some x-rays and there’s nothing damaged.  Just a bit bashed about.”

 

“So he’s still got his eye?”  He sounded so young to Bernie then, much more the little brother Alex had tried to keep an eye on rather than the decorated, conflict-hardened Commando.  Reaching out, Bernie put her hand on his and squeezed lightly, letting his clenched fist know her hand was there, that he wasn’t having to hold the weight of worry on his own.

 

“He’s still got his eye and there’s nothing to suggest that there’s any fresh damage or injury that will affect his remaining vision in the long term.”  Bernie felt his hand relax a touch under hers and let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, relieved that it had been Alex who’d given her the update, who she could read so easily whether she was masked or not.  The update about Ro from Alex might have been brief and short on spoken details but it had been very detailed and informative for Bernie, being able to understand so much about Ro’s condition by what Alex hadn’t said and her overall demeanour.  “My guess is he rubbed his face when he felt the scratches and dirt?”  She saw Matt shrug and mutter ‘maybe’, knowing but not saying that they’d had a bit of a time trying to stop Ro continuing to try to rub his face when she’d been with him, before the helicopter came.  “He’s already been cleaned up...have you got his bag?”

 

“Here.”  Major Horbain stood up and walked over to them, holding it out to her.  It was the standard military bergen, designed to be able to hold everything a soldier might need whilst on exercise.  “He’s stuck to what’s familiar.”

 

“Sensible.”  Bernie took the pack from him and looked at it, noting the outer pouches that would no doubt provide the careful segregation for ‘wet’ and ‘dry’ kit as well as things Ro might feel like he needed to access regularly.  What she was looking for however, was going to be in the main body of the pack, probably towards the bottom.  “Matt, could you…”  She passed the pack to him, not wanting to intrude on Ro’s privacy any more than she already had to.  “Ro said he’s got a folder with some of his medical notes in...my guess is near the bottom?”  

 

Matt took the pack from her and put it on the chair next to him, unfastening the straps then reaching into the pack, taking care to disrupt as little of the pack’s arrangement as possible so Ro would find things when he wanted them.  After a moment, he pulled out a card folder and passed it to Bernie.

 

“Thanks.”  Opening the folder, she saw that it was as Ro had promised her it would be - copies of letters from consultants as well as lists of medications and a copy of his summarised military medical record that started with the vaccinations given to him during his Commando Training Course and ended with his discharge from the Royal Marines.

 

“Bernie?”

 

“Mmm?”  Bernie looked up from the file, belatedly realising she’d become absorbed in filling in the blanks between when she’d last had Ro as a patient and today, the bits and pieces he’d told her when they were waiting for Alex and the helicopter starting to make ever more sense now.  “Sorry…” She realised she’d stopped her update on Ro’s situation prematurely.  “Mr Hanssen and Ms Campbell are operating on his legs.”

 

“Did he know?”

 

Bernie’s immediate instinct was to ask ‘did who know what?’ but she bit down on her lip and tried to think through what Matt was really asking.

 

“When I arrived, Ro was...not doing pirate impressions.”  Matt grinned at this - a small part of him really wished they’d managed to get a video of his friend doing pirate impression after pirate impression as the pain relief Bernie had given him was helping Ro’s inner goof emerge front and centre.  “He was lucid and we had plenty of time to talk…he might not remember it now, but he gave me a thorough grilling on what our options were as far as getting him out went.  And I think he knew, before I’d arrived, what was going to have to happen.”  

 

“Bernie?” 

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Is it bad to say I’m glad it was you?”  Matt sniffed, the nearest he would get to admitting that he’d been struggling with his emotions while they’d been talking.  “I don’t mean that in a bad way to the other doctors…” He frowned while he tried to work out what he was trying to say without insulting her.

 

“Just say it Matt, don’t think about it.”  Bernie was certain that whatever it was he was trying to say, even at his most brutal and blunt, she would have almost certainly heard worse at some point.

 

“I’m glad it was you because...because I know you didn’t need to do it, for the brag I mean.  Not that I’m saying another doctor would have...but it’s just, you’re...Major Wolfe.  You wouldn’t have done it unless it was the only way.”

 

* * *

  
  
  
  


“So why are you here?” asked Dom, having finally accepted that the ground wouldn’t open up and swallow him, nor would Hari help him escape what Dom was adamant could only be certain death when he next saw Alex or Bernie.

 

“Waiting for pizza guy?”

 

Not appreciating Hari’s extreme literalism, Dom rolled his eyes in an unspoken request that he provide a better explanation.

 

“Did you hear about the helicopter?”  Hari didn’t really know where to begin with his explanation...was Dom a friend?  Did he want to risk starting to talk  about what had just happened to Ro?

 

“Umm…” Dom vaguely remembered overhearing some porters talking about a helicopter dropping by a while ago, and then Mr Levy and Mr Griffin were both around, which was strange.  “I’ve been in theatre and on the ward most of the day…” After he’d seen Alex and Ms Campbell in the coffee shop, he’d ended up working fairly flat out for the rest of his shift which hadn’t been good news for his hangover.  “So not really.  Air Ambulance?”

 

“CHF…”  Seeing Dom’s frown, Hari reminded himself he was talking to a civilian and tried to concentrate on providing an explanation that wasn’t overly pedantic.  “Commando Helicopter Force...we, uh, came by and picked up the Captain and a nurse called Fletch?”  Dom nodded, following Hari so far and confirming that he did know Fletch.  “Major Wolfe requested Air Support and the Air Ambulance was already on task...uh...helping someone else.”

 

“I heard Ms Wolfe had to go out to a scene…”  That piece of news had shot round the surgical wards of the hospital in no time at all, especially when one of the paramedics dropping off a patient in the ED had let slip that St Mark’s had already sent a surgeon who’d not been up to it.  To say there was inter-hospital rivalry would be putting it mildly…  “I didn’t realise the Army had helicopters for hire like that.”

 

“Navy.  We’re part of the Royal Navy.”  Hari silently counted to five, knowing that Dom wasn’t doing it to deliberately wind him up - he was a civilian, with as far as Hari could tell, basically zero exposure to anything to do with the Armed Forces prior to meeting Major Wolfe and Captain Dawson - but it was still a raw nerve to confuse a Royal Marine with the Army, most often brought up as a deliberate ‘bait’ in military circles.

 

“Sorry.  But if Ms Wolfe is Army, and you’re Navy...what am I missing?”

 

“Do you remember the DJ from last night?”

 

“Batz?  Yeah, he was alright - bit random with his music at times, but it worked.”  Dom didn’t like to say that when he’d first stepped into the club he’d almost turned around immediately, really not into the music the DJ was playing.  It was only the knowledge that the door fee included a free drink that kept him going - he’d take the bottle of beer and then go.  By the time he’d actually got the beer however, all thoughts of abandoning the club had been forgotten as the DJ had shifted from song to song several times and in doing so had created a really nice buzz in the crowd.  “What’s he got to do with it?”  Dom rarely bothered about who the DJ was, at least not when it came to going clubbing in Holby.

 

“He’s the one who needed the helicopter.  He survived an attack when we were on Patrol in…”  Hari swallowed and cleared his throat, skipping over exactly where they were on Patrol when the attack happened.  “Kept his legs but lost an eye and most of his sight...and then a bloody sewer collapses in a fucking coach park and…”  Hari ran out of words at this point and stepped away from Dom, lighting up another cigarette more for something to do than an actual desire for a smoke, leaving Dom to work out what he was talking about.

 

Thinking back to his shift, he remembered snippets of conversation he’d overheard as he went from patient to patient, past porters and nurses, exchanging nods and smiles with them by rote, his thoughts not occupied with medicine generally preoccupied with his hangover and tiredness.

 

_ “Have you heard?  Ms Wolfe’s gone out to help…” _

 

_ “...Hanssen’s come in…” _

 

_ “Dr Dawson’s going out to assist…” _

 

_ “...field amputation…” _

 

_ “Yeah, it’s a double…” _

 

“I’m sorry…”  Realising what Hari’s friend was going through, Dom took a few steps towards the visibly tense Hari, not sure whether a hug was appropriate or not.  “...Do you know who’s in theatre?  I could…”  Whereas a few minutes ago the inside of Holby General was the last place he wanted to be, Dom was ready to head back in and go find out from theatre exactly what was going on with the DJ, if that was what would help.  

 

“Captain Dawson’s stayed with him, and uh, Fletch said Hansome and Campbell I think?”  Hari hadn’t entirely been listening when the doctors had rushed up to meet them off the chopper and introductions had been automatically reeled off while pushing Ro towards an operating theatre.

 

“Mr Hanssen and Ms Campbell…”  Hari turned round and looked at Dom, not having realised that Dom would, of course, know everyone.  “He’s tall, like really tall…” Dom canted his head as he considered Hari, mentally measuring the tall Marine against an imagined Hanssen.  “Taller than you I think, but he’s…”  Dom gestured with his hands, trying to imply that Hanssen was a narrower build than Hari without either describing the Marine as ‘bulky’ or ‘big’ or Hanssen as ‘thin’ or ‘lanky’.  “Swedish.”

 

“Okay…” In spite of everything, Hari found himself smiling both at Dom’s descriptive struggles and his reaction to Hari’s butchered attempt at the surgeons’ names - he really was rather cute when he did that sort of frowning smirking smiling wince thing.

 

“He’s the CEO of the hospital, really good surgeon.  He’s a consultant too...like Ms Wolfe is. And Ms Campbell.  She’s a consultant on AAU, that’s the same ward as Ms Wolfe.”

  
“Is she also…”  Hari didn’t really care what this ‘Ms Campbell’ looked like, but the light teasing banter was helping him recover his composure - he wasn’t any use to Ro if he was a gibbering mess.  “...Swedish?”


	11. Chapter 11

  
  


“Ms Wolfe?”

 

“Come in Fletch…” Looking up from her paperwork, Bernie stretched and yawned, banging her knee on the underside of the desk in the process.  “...ow…”

 

“You alright?”

 

“Fine…”  She waved him in with one hand while rubbing her knee with the other.  “Used my kneecap to reposition the desk.”  Which, now she thought about it, didn’t usually happen.  “...You need me for something?”  Although she’d technically come off shift hours ago, she was sufficiently established on AAU now that they all knew that if she was on the ward she’d rather they just asked her for input rather than worried about whether she was on shift or not.  She’d pointed out that she was perfectly capable of saying ‘no’.

 

“Message from theatre.  They’re just finishing up, so he should be moved into recovery soon.  And I’ve put him down for the side room.”

 

“Thanks Fletch.”  Standing up and stretching again, she noticed Alex’s jacket sitting on one of the visitor chairs - at least the mystery of her bashed knee was now solved.

 

“Do you want me to tell his mates?  Or wait…”  Fletch wasn’t sure that hospital security would be much of a match for the blokes in the family room if they decided they wanted to get into recovery to see their mate.

 

“Once he’s in recovery I think…”  She had to remember that she wasn’t Ro’s only surgeon now.  “And it’s technically up to Mr Hanssen and Ms Campbell.”

 

“If you say so…”  It was clear that Fletch didn’t agree with her diplomatic assessment.  “I’ll wait for the word from one of you then, before bringing them back.”  

 

“Thanks Fletch.”  Rubbing her neck distractedly, Bernie set off, intending to go and meet up with Alex, Hanssen and Serena in Recovery but pausing when she got the distinct impression that Fletch was hovering for some reason.  “Spit it out.”

 

“Uh, yeah…”  He stepped forwards, closing the distance between them to virtually nothing and rubbed his elbow.  “So that helicopter...it was a bit of something else see…”

 

“Okay…”  Confused, not quite sure what the Merlin was if it was ‘something else’ but prepared to go along with it as a concept as long as he got to the point quickly, Bernie waited for him to continue.

 

“And the whole wheels on the ground but still flying thing?”  Fletch was shaking his head as he thought about the fact that not only had he gone in a military helicopter, but he’d been getting in and out of it when the thing wasn’t even properly parked!  “Never in a million years did I think I’d ever be doing that…so I was wondering like…is it alright if I tell the kids?”

 

“Of course!”  Bernie had no idea why he’d been struggling to ask her that - she couldn’t think of any reason why he couldn’t or shouldn’t talk to his kids about his helicopter adventure.  

 

“Cheers Bernie, you’re a ledge!”  And, grin firmly restored to his face, Fletch headed back to the nurse’s station, a familiar bounce back in his step, leaving a somewhat baffled but amused Bernie to head to Recovery.

 

* * *

  
  


“Ms Campbell?”  Henrik Hanssen looked across their patient to Serena.  “Can I be of assistance?”

 

“No thank you…”  Serena held out her right hand.  “...scissors please.”  When she felt the scissors touch her palm, she closed her fingers around them.  “Thank you…”  Without looking away from her final suture, she made sure she had a secure hold on the sharp scissors and then reached down made the final snip.  “All done.”  Nodding sharply to provide double confirmation that she was satisfied with her work, she passed the needle and scissors back to the nurse while looking up at Henrik.  “What do you think?”

 

“I think Ms Wolfe is the real judge…” declared Henrik levelly, although Serena had spent enough time working with the often enigmatic Swede to be able to tell that he was, in his own quiet way, thinking that together they’d done a good job.  “...but I’d like to hope we’ve passed.”  He looked down at their patient, critically examining their handiwork.  “Could we get these dressed please…” He stepped slightly to the side to allow the waiting nurse room to come in and start dressing the incisions and generally preparing their patient for recovery as Serena did the same.  “Dr Dawson?”

 

“Yes Mr Hanssen?”  Alex looked from the tall CEO who she’d never previously worked with to the slightly more familiar Serena, then back to Hanssen.

 

“Our work here is done, for now.”  He looked from Alex to another of the theatre nurses who wasn’t involved in the bandaging process.  “Could you let Recovery know please?”  Seeing the nurse head for the wall-mounted phone, he thanked her automatically before returning his attention to Alex.  “Unless Ms Campbell objects?”

 

“No objections from me,” responded Serena promptly, also looking at Alex and nodding, feeling the welcome energy rush of reaching the end of what was currently looking like being a successful surgery.  With any luck she’d manage to get changed before it wore off.

 

“Then by all means Dr Dawson, please proceed with bringing our friend here back round.”

 

“Of course Mr Hanssen.”   Concentrating on administering the necessary drugs to reverse the general anaesthetic, Alex was vaguely aware of the two consultants removing their masks and gloves and having a conversation about something or other, but she paid it little attention.  In fact, she was rather oblivious to everything that was happening around her and her patient until the team from Recovery appeared alongside her a few minutes later.

 

“Doctor?”

 

“Perfect timing.”  Alex looked up from her notes that she’d just finished, keeping half an eye and a whole ear on Ro while she she spoke to them.  “How’s Recovery?” she asked, recognising the nurse as being one of the ones who’d looked after Charlotte Dunn a few months back.  She knew better than to outright jinx it by presuming that they were quiet, but it was very late on Sunday night, if not already Monday morning…

 

“Got more consultants stood around in it than patients.”

 

“Oh?  Special case?”  It was only after she’d asked the question that Alex realised that, by Holby standards, Ro was probably the special case.  Just as it hadn’t been an everyday affair when the team at Camp Bastion had suddenly found themselves performing even the most straightforward of paediatric surgeries, she belatedly remembered that here, in Holby, Ro was the unusual patient.  “Sorry, I forgot…”  By way of further explanation, Alex suddenly found herself surprised by a jaw-cracking yawn, reminding her that it was definitely late and technically, this was her day off.  Not that she minded either way, but it did at least help her pride withstand the embarrassment of such a public yawn.

 

“Ms Wolfe and Mr Griffin are in Recovery...and Mr Rothman here is our only customer.”  It took Alex’s tiring brain a moment to translate ‘Mr Rothman’ into ‘Ro’.

 

“Let’s not keep them waiting then.”  And, with a final small yawn that gave way to a quick shake of heavy limbs as she stood up, Alex did her final double checks on Ro before giving the nod to start the process of transferring him from operating table to bed and then onto Recovery.  If she was really lucky, Bernie might have brought her a cup of coffee...

* * *

  
  


Leaning against the counter in what she hoped was a sufficiently out of the way position to not disrupt Recovery should they suddenly become busy, Bernie had spent the last few minutes looking through the photos from last night.  While most were taken by Matt of Bernie and Alex when they had been in the flat, there were a few Bernie had taken of brother and sister as well.  She’d just got as far as investigating the link Matt had emailed earlier when Ric Griffin had also arrived in Recovery.  Good manners had necessitated her nodding in acknowledgment to him but she was not really one for small talk at the best of times, never mind between midnight and dawn when she’d not planned to be awake.   

 

The link, it seemed, once she’d read Matt’s email a second time, was a shared folder that Matt and his friends had pooled all of their photos from their night out celebrating Ro’s DJ-ing success.  Skipping past what appeared to be a fairly diligent photographic record of every last poster advertising the event, Bernie was just starting to look through the pictures the lads had taken inside the club when she became aware of Ric starting to hover.  Mature enough to acknowledge to herself that yes, she was enjoying his apparent reluctance to talk to her, she continued to look at the photographs, finding it interesting how many of them had actually worked...including one that showed quite how horrifically bad Jako was at dancing.

  
  


When Ric Griffin had cleared his throat for the third time inside two minutes, Bernie decided to take him out of his misery.

 

“Spit it out Ric,” she instructed, not looking up from her phone although she did quickly turn off the screen when she realised that the next photograph had not only worked, but was definitive proof that she and Alex had been there...and definitely not dancing.

 

“I…” Ric cleared his throat again, unable to admit to himself quite how unnerving she was when she was like this.  “I didn’t see Dr Dawson on shift?”  It wasn’t what he had intended to say first, and as a result it sounded more confrontational than he’d intended.

 

“She wasn’t.”  Putting her phone on the counter beside her, Bernie looked up at him as she folded her arms loosely across her body, just below her ribs.  “She was waiting for my shift to finish.”  

 

“Then we are doubly lucky.”  Relieved that he’d managed to get past that first ill-advised remark of his, Ric relaxed a bit more and it showed in his smile as he took a couple of steps towards Bernie, clutching the folder he carried.

 

“I don’t follow.”  Bernie was almost too tired to be patient with him, but an instinctive gut feeling told her to try - that letting him take his time to get to whatever it was that he wanted to say in the way he wanted to say it was going to be the quickest and least exhausting option.

 

“Your paper…” Ric held out the folder he was clutching, Bernie correctly inferring that it contained the copy of the journal entry he’d been looking at earlier.  “...is very good…” 

 

“Thanks…” Bernie was thoroughly confused now - accepting the complement went against her nature: no journal worth their salt would ever publish a paper that wasn’t ‘very good’, nor would any Hospital Trust or the Army have let anyone put forward a paper for publication that carried with it any risk of negativity.  Not that she’d originally been persuaded to write the paper for any glory or credit - she’d originally written the substance of the paper many years earlier.  It had begun life as an internal report for her then Commanding Officers, something she could ‘do’ when she’d been frustrated that their treatment protocols were not evolving as fast as the soldiers they were treating needed them to be.  The paper, in the form that Ric had seen it, had been prepared much later, once they’d evolved and improved several times over.  “But it’s not really ‘mine’.  Most of it’s…” she was about to say ‘field medicine, but changed her mind, knowing from her time on Keller with Ric that their conversations were easier if she didn’t mention anything ‘military jargon-ish’.  “...non-surgical.”

 

“I misjudged you Ms Wolfe.”  

 

Behind him, the doors opened and Bernie saw Ro being wheeled into Recovery, escorted by Alex, Hanssen and Serena as well as the expected nurses and porter.  Turning around, Bernie picked up her phone and the folder it was sitting on, and, once she’d worked out which bay Ro was headed for, prepared to go and join her colleagues.  Before that however, she paused -  her tiredness no doubt giving her an excuse should her bluntness cause offence but in truth it made no difference.  Looking directly at Ric for a long, silent moment, Bernie allowed herself to remember her first challenging few weeks on Keller when she’d been having to fight on every front, including for respect and trust from colleagues who wouldn’t look past her military manner and different ways of doing things.

 

“Yes, you did.”

 

Pocketing her phone, Bernie stepped around Ric and went to meet Alex, Henrik and Serena.  She had no idea who was going to confer the title of ‘lead surgeon’ on themselves and honestly didn’t care at this juncture - at least, she only cared long enough to pass on the folder that contained what they knew about Ro’s medical history.  After that, her main priority was finding a bed and Alex, once she could declare herself ‘off shift’, and getting some sleep.  

  
  
  


“Bernie…”  Serena smiled at her fellow AAU consultant as she looked past the blonde to Ric who was still stood on the far side of Recovery, a curious expression on his face.  “What on earth did you do to Ric?”

 

“Hmm?”  Resisting the urge to look over her shoulder at him, Bernie shrugged and grinned, remembering something a less than sober Dom had told her once, months ago in Albie’s, when she’d still been on Keller.  “I think he keeps being surprised when he sees I can’t flirt.”

 

To this surprising statement, Serena singularly failed to keep a neutral expression and instead arched her eyebrow and looked decidedly skeptical.  Fortunately for her however, Alex not only heard Bernie’s reply, but had an even harder time containing her opinion and eventually gave up fighting the urge to laugh.

 

“What?”  Bernie turned and looked at Alex who was only just holding it together enough to continue to monitor Ro, so the surgeon looked back at Serena for an explanation.

 

“You absolutely can and do flirt…” corrected Serena promptly, amused by Bernie’s look of horror - you’d be forgiven for thinking that she’d just been accused of practising cannibalism or something equally heinous from the look of it.  “...but I agree, it’s not with the Rics of this world.”

 

“Yes…well…”  Bernie chewed on her lip as she tried to unpick what Serena’s comment was really getting at, before deciding that since it was clearly now causing Alex to hiccup, she’d leave it for now and so turned her attention to Ro.  “How did it go?”

 

“Remarkably well Ms Wolfe,” said Henrik, rejoining them in time to hear her question but having missed the earlier conversation as he’d almost immediately stepped away from Ro as they entered Recovery to make a brief phone call.  “At least…” He looked at Serena for her support and confirmation, which caught Bernie’s attention - she couldn’t remember him doing something like that before.  “...we followed your suggested approach and didn’t encounter any surprises on the way, did we Serena?”

 

“No Henrik…”  Serena smiled at Bernie, trying to reassure her fellow trauma consultant that this wasn’t some backhanded way of being critical of what she’d done at the scene.  “You know, from your time on AAU, how few amputations we have at Holby…”  Bernie nodded, knowing it was one of the more obvious differences in case mix compared to her most recent postings to Camp Bastion.  That and dealing with trauma patients with pre-existing conditions - few soldiers wounded in a war zone had to have their injuries treated at the same time as managing their kidney dialysis regimes for example, as one of her patients earlier in her shift had to deal with.  “...and I’d like to think we’re not so proud we can’t admit to benefiting from a little refresher…”  Bernie realised she was in danger of starting to drift off into her own thoughts if she didn’t concentrate on what Serena was saying.

 

“Of course not.”  Fortunately for Bernie, Serena recognised that particular tone of voice as being one Bernie used when she was speaking with complete sincerity, otherwise she might have found herself only on speaking terms with Hanssen come her next shift.

 

“So we refreshed ourselves…” continued Serena, seeing a flicker of amusement in Bernie’s eyes at the strange turn of phrase she’d just used.  “... _ professionally speaking… _ ” emphasised Serena pointedly, although a glass of decent red, perhaps from one of those bottles Bernie had given her would hit the spot right now and she’d almost certainly earned it.  “...while we waited for word that you were en route with Mr Rothman here.  You write a very good article.”

 

“I…”  For the second time in almost as many minutes, Bernie was about to start protesting that she wasn’t the one who had done the bulk of the writing in the article they’d clearly all read.  The work was hers, since the paper was a digest of her original report and their subsequently implemented procedures and solutions, which explained why her name was the first one down, but it had actually been drafted up by one of her officers who, to her mind, deserved more credit than he’d publically got.

 

“Didn’t write it word for word, but it has your name on it because it was your work and reports that the article summaries, yes.  I know.”  Serena smile contained a small hint of triumph when she saw Bernie’s look of surprise.  “Believe it or not, some of us do actually read the footnotes and acknowledgments.  And there are other articles that you  _ have  _ written…”  Bernie’s expression had gone from surprise to full blown shock and Serena was also aware that Alex had stopped hiccuping.  “Which so far I’ve only skimmed, but I recognise your style from your AAU reports…”  That and she’d done some digging after hearing Alex explain to Jason that Bernie had been a Colonel before asking to go back to ‘just’ being a Major as she wanted to concentrate on surgery, but Serena wasn’t going to admit to that just now - there had to be a less unsuitable time and place for that conversation.

 

“I see…”  

 

It hadn’t occurred to Bernie to advertise what exactly she’d achieved and done in her time before the explosion - she never had done before, quite the opposite in fact, with the Army way being to almost disappear behind your specialism, rank and regiment.  She was a trauma surgeon, experienced enough to have attained the rank and ribbons that she had.  Beyond that, she never gave her own experiences that much thought, nevermind telling others about what she’d done.  It was much easier to just carry on and do stuff, only mentioning past experience when it was relevant or helpful. Just when she was trying to decide whether, by omitting to circulate her full biography and service record, she’d done something she was now expected to apologise for, Henrik spoke.

 

“Your patient’s waking up Ms Wolfe…” He nodded in Ro’s direction, drawing her attention first to Ro, meaning it took her a moment to realise exactly what he’d said.

 

“My patient?  But…”

 

“What Ms Campbell and I did was, we hope, up to your standard Ms Wolfe, but it was only to assist you.  Mr Rothman, as I understand it, was your patient once before and, based on everything I have learned in these last few hours, is, quite correctly, still your patient.  But it was an honour to be a part of this remarkable young man’s surgical team.”

 

“Mmmm….”  All eyes were immediately drawn to the bed where, the anesthetic wearing off, Ro was starting to groggily come to, prompting Alex to swiftly set about working with the nurses to get him settled again.

 

“I guess I give this to myself then?”  asked Bernie, somewhat rhetorically, holding the folder she’d brought with her up for her fellow surgeons to see.

 

“His medical history?”

 

“Some of it.  He had it with him, in his bag…”  

 

Wordlessly, she passed it to Serena who started to look at it as Hanssen came around behind her so he too could see, before heading over to Ro and Alex.

 

“Hi.”  She stopped just behind and to the side of Alex, near enough to be close but not so close to be in Alex’s way as she finished extubating Ro.  Seeing the tray that Alex was using to put the used equipment in, Bernie reached out for it and held it where she knew Alex would instinctively look for it - just in front and slightly to the side of her right hip.   “Here…”

 

“Thanks.”  Dropping the tube into the tray with barely a glance at it, trusting Bernie completely, Alex looked back at Ro who was already beginning to fall asleep again as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped him to settle back on the bed.  Seeing that there was nothing else that required her to be wearing her gloves, she stripped those off too and dropped them in the tray that Bernie still held.

 

“Okay?” Bernie’s question was quiet, barely audible to Alex who ‘felt’ the question rather than heard it, so close was Bernie’s head as she twisted round and put the tray back on the nearby trolley that she’d grabbed it from.

 

“Yeah…”  Alex swayed slightly on her feet, wanting to lean back into Bernie and give in to her rapidly arriving tiredness now the adrenalin boost from earlier was well and truly gone, but she managed to catch herself just in time - not that she doubted Bernie wouldn’t have caught her, but she did want to at least try and remain on her feet, if only for reasons of professional pride and dignity.  “He did good…”  She straightened the blankets around Ro’s side, smoothing them out from where they’d become a bit tangled when the side rail had been lowered.  Stepping away from Bernie a fraction, just enough to be able to turn around so she was able to see Bernie and, beyond her, the three other consultant surgeons all stood around another file, talking quietly.  “They did good…”

 

“Wouldn’t have expected anything else.”  Despite her initial angry outburst in Hanssen’s office early on in her time at Holby, about not wanting anyone other than Sacha Levy to operate if she couldn’t, Bernie had come to genuinely appreciate the surgical skills of her colleagues.  She might still find their opinions about bedside manner somewhat...inconsistent and at times even hypocritical but that was a different point.

 

“What’s the case?” Alex nodded in the direction of the huddle of consultants - she might be almost dead on her feet after the events of the last forty-eight hours or so, but she was still awake enough to have her curiosity slightly sparked by the sight of three consultants all pouring over the same file.

 

“This one.”  Too late Bernie realised she should have expressed herself differently.  “Hey, relax…”  She risked giving Alex’s upper arms a brief rub of what she hoped was reassurance and a general encouragement to untense muscles that were almost certainly too tired to be able to sustain being so taut all of a sudden.  “Ro had some of his notes with him...Matt found them in his pack for me.  No surprises...” She felt Alex relax as her words sunk in.  “Promise.  It was exactly as you thought...no drug allergies, no unexpected medications…”

 

“Then what’s so fascinating?”  asked Alex, refocusing on Bernie and taking a couple of steps away from Ro’s bed, not needing to be stood right on top of him anymore and not wanting to risk him registering what they were saying, even if it was extremely unlikely that he’d hear their quiet conversation.

 

“Ro was on a waiting list for delayed amputation.”  Bernie rubbed her neck as she updated her mental ‘to-do’ list for tomorrow, later today, whenever it was next going to be professionally acceptable to ring up Ro’s consultant.  “Double amputation.”

 

“Ah.  Guess that’s different to splenectomies and laparoscopies.”   Alex remembered Bernie telling her that after she’d sent Matt down to talk to Ro while Bernie and Alex planned what they needed to do, out of Ro’s immediate earshot.  “Does Matt know?  And the others?”

 

“Not sure.  Right now that’s tomorrow’s problem.”

 

“I’m guessing he’s still your patent then?” asked Alex, her thoughts returning to the more practical and immediate one of who she officially turned her theatre notes over to.

 

“Time to find out…” With a final squeeze of Alex’s arm and a crooked grin that had Alex smiling despite her exhaustion, Bernie  added, “...either way come find me in my office?”  She nearly added ‘when your shift is done’ but caught herself just in time.  

 

“Sure...I left my stuff there anyway…”  The reality was that they’d probably meet up in Ro’s room before that, but since both knew it, there was no need to waste time or words stating the obvious.

 

“So my kneecap proved…” teased Bernie, really not that bothered.  “See you soon.”  And, with a final wink, she ambled over to her fellow consultants leaving Alex in peace to complete her final write ups and other bits and pieces ahead of Ro being moved to AAU.


	12. Chapter 12

 

“Good timing.”

 

“What?”  Startled by Bernie’s voice, the uniformed young man who’d been frowning at the locked door to AAU spun round, before going ‘stiff’.  “Ma’am.”

 

“As you were…” The request was automatic, along with the casual wave of her hand as ‘Major Wolfe’ intervened and attempted to put him at ease.  “Seriously Jako, it’s just Bernie here…” Stepping past him, Bernie pulled out her pass and tapped it against the scan pad so that the doors unlocked.  If she also therefore turned her back on Jako for a few seconds and thus enabled him recover his wits, well, that was entirely deliberate.  “You looking for the others?”

 

“Yeah…”  He tentatively looked past her into the ward that looked rather more ‘hospitally’ than he’d expected.  “The front desk told me to come here…”

 

“Then you better come in.”  She gestured for the nervous Marine to proceed her onto AAU.  “You drive here?”  Unlike Hari, Matt and Toby Horbain, when they’d returned to Holby with Ro, Jako had stayed on the helicopter as part of the crew and therefore flew back to their Base.

 

“From Base.  The Boss had organised transport to bring me here…”  He gestured with his thumb behind him.  “Hope we parked ok...there wasn’t much space.”

 

“Wasn’t there?”  As she walked towards the nurse’s station, drawing the still nervous Jako further into the ward with her, Bernie frowned in confusion.  While hospital car parking problems were rather notorious and well deserved, that notoriety generally only applied during the day.  At almost 3am there shouldn’t be too many problems.

 

“Uh, we’re in a 3 tonner.”

 

“Ah.”  That made some sort of sense, guessed Bernie, picturing the small (by Army standards) truck that had a cab that could hold two passengers plus the driver in moderate comfort and then had a covered loadspace.  “Did you park it somewhere that said ambulances only?”

 

“No Ma’am.”  Rather than correcting him, as he’d automatically corrected himself with a sheepish grin, Bernie grinned back.

 

“Then it’s fine.  And if it isn’t, we’ll worry about it later.”  Later, she assumed, was going to be once they’d all seen Ro was on the ward and ostensibly ‘fine’ before piling into the truck and being driven back to Base.  No doubt their plan was to kip down in the back of the truck and turn out for morning call as if nothing much had happened overnight.  “They’re in there…” She gestured to the family room on the far side of AAU.  “Ro’s out of theatre, we’re just waiting for him to recover from the anaesthetic then he’ll be down.  I’ll come and see everyone once he’s settled?”  Instinct told her that it was better to let Jako go and catch up with his friends without her, not least because she wasn’t that sure what he’d picked up from the guys already as he’d been having to work very hard with the flight crew.

 

“Thanks.”  He was just setting off when Bernie remembered something.

 

“Oh, Jako?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thanks for your work with the chopper…”  She sort of remembered shouting ‘thank you’ to him as she both climbed into and out of the helicopter earlier, but she never knew how much the crews heard.

 

“Happy to be there.”

 

“Umm, I don’t suppose…”  Bernie rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to remember what they’d called them, mentally kicking herself for not asking Alex who would have known exactly what she was talking about.  “...Fletch, the nurse…”  She glanced around, double checking that he was off somewhere, hopefully in Recovery getting ready to bring Ro back.

 

“He did well.”  Jako picked up from her body language that she was trying not to tell the whole Ward something and took a couple of steps closer to her again.  “Considering…”

 

“Were you wearing the camera?”  Bernie gestured to her chest area, knowing that latterly an increasing number of soldiers were wearing cameras on either their chest armour or helmets in Afghanistan.  “Or did the chopper?”

 

“Helmet camera, and yeah, we had the cameras turned on…”  Jako thought for a moment and then burst out into a genuine smile.  “You want me to see if there’s a picture for him?  Fletch I mean.”

 

“Would you mind?”  Bernie double checked the ward once more to make sure that Fletch definitely wasn’t in earshot.  “He’s got kids…”

 

“Action hero Dad shots...think we can do something.”  It would be nice actually, thought Jako, if they could take a positive from the flight, something different to remember aside from Ro wrapped up on that stretcher, surrounded by all those machines…  “Is it a secret or can I tell the others?”

 

“Only a secret from Fletch.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

“Thanks Jako.”  Feeling rather pleased with her idea, Bernie was about to sit down at the nurse’s station before changing her mind and heading to the staff room.  Her earlier pizza had dealt with her hunger, but a cup of coffee sounded like a good idea now… 

* * *

  
  


“Ms Wolfe?”

 

“Yes Fletch.”  Pressing save on her report, Bernie looked up at him as she took a sip of her still warm coffee.

 

“Mr Rothman’s just arrived, Dr D’s with him.”

 

“Thanks.”  Putting down her mug, Bernie stood up...and banged her other kneecap.

 

“Ouch?”

 

“Remind me to adjust my chair sometime?” asked Bernie, having confirmed that there was nothing much wrong with her knee by giving it a quick rub.  “Where is Serena?  And Mr Hanssen?”  Considering how over-populated with consultants Recovery had been, AAU was now rather bereft.

 

“Still in Recovery.”  Bernie’s expression confirmed that she thought this as strange as Fletch did.  “No idea.  Just them two and Mr Griffin having a…”  Fletch bit down on his lower lip as he smiled which, in conjunction with how he was shaking his head, made it clear that, in his opinion, it wasn’t a wholly friendly chat.

 

“I see.”  Deciding that she would stay well away from that can of worms, Bernie headed out into AAU, only to remember that last time she’d checked the ward list, both side rooms were empty and she wasn’t aware of any admissions….

 

“On your right.”

 

“Thanks…”  Destination confirmed, she headed for what was, for the next few days at least, going to be ‘Ro’s room’.

 

* * *

 

“How is he?”

 

Alex looked up from the note she was writing and smiled when she saw Bernie stood just inside the door, a mixture of tiredness and relief showing her eyes.

 

“Good…”  Alex finished the note and, satisfied that everything on the page was in order, initialled and signed where she needed to before closing the file and offering it to Bernie.  “...if you want to have a look?”

 

“Thanks…” Accepting the file automatically, Bernie opened it and began scanning the contents of the accumulated notes which so far were mostly from theatre and what Ro had with him.  Bernie’s report about what she did at the scene and en route to theatre was mostly written up but still on her computer, while no doubt Hanssen and Serena’s reports would be finished later in the day.  Satisfied with what she was seeing, she closed the file and moved to put it away in the file holder at the foot of his bed, only to pause and offer it back to Alex.

 

“No, I’m done.”  Alex stretched and yawned, her left hand instinctively reaching up and holding her stethoscope steady so it didn’t slip from her shoulders and land noisily on the floor.  

 

“I’ll go talk to Matt and the others...”  Bernie put the file back in the holder and looked thoughtfully at the sleeping Ro, the monitors telling her what the file had already hinted at - he was, so far, doing alright.  “...do you want to…?” Ordinarily, Alex wouldn’t come with her to talk to the friends and family of a patient, but there was nothing stopping her either.

 

“Thanks, but…”  Waiting until Bernie had stepped away from Ro’s bed again and joined her by the door, Alex found herself trying to suppress another yawn rather than talking.  

 

“C’mon.”  Putting an arm around Alex’s shoulders, Bernie calmly coaxed her out of Ro’s room, knowing that just the other side of the door was a nice quiet corner that at this time of the night shift would be extra quiet and a much more appropriate spot for her and Alex to regroup a bit than in Ro’s room.

 

“Sorry…”  Unfortunately, Alex seemed to have reached the point where now she’d started yawning, there probably wasn’t anything other than sleep or a nasty shock that was going to stop her yawns.

 

“I’ll go and talk to Matt and the others and then, when I’m done with them I’ll come find you in my office.  Go have a shower...there’s cold pizza on my desk for you...” she pointed out, relieved when she saw the beginnings of a smile form on Alex’s face seconds before the anaesthetist’s stomach confirmed it approved of the plan and another yawn arrived.

 

“That sounds good…” Alex rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck, the suggestion of a shower enabling her to finally acknowledge the tightness she’d been ignoring in increasingly tired muscles, muscles that were now reminding her that no matter how fit she stayed through running and so forth, it was a good few months since she’d last done a MERT shift.  No matter how stressed a hospital shift got, it wasn’t using the same sets of muscles that extracting a casualty from the field used.  “Wait, your pizza?” 

 

“There is nothing wrong with ham and pineapple on a pizza…”  Normally, at this point in the pizza topping conversation, they’d start teasing each other.   Not that Alex minded ham and pineapple on a pizza, it was just that she, unlike Bernie, was prepared to also have other toppings on her pizza as well.  For Bernie though, a pizza was only an acceptable pizza if it had ham and pineapple on it.  Or goat.  But they hadn’t yet found a pizza place in Holby that would offer that as a topping. 

 

“No, there isn’t,” agreed Alex, yawning again, although her docile agreement with Bernie’s taste in pizza was far more telling about how tired she really was.

“Go…” instructed Bernie, steering Alex out of the corner and pointing her in the direction of the locker room.  “And if you fall asleep in the shower…”  At this, Alex’s face twitched sleepily - she was awake enough to remember what had happened the last time she’d genuinely fallen asleep on her feet in the shower, but too sleepy to actually join in the banter.  “I’ll eat your pizza.”

 

“Hey!”  Now that her hunger had been brought to her attention, Alex was not prepared to let her food be taken away from her.  “I’m going…” she promised, setting off for locker room, and Bernie’s locker in particular.  It hadn’t taken too long for some of Alex’s stuff to permanently migrate into Bernie’s locker, although Alex had played no part in it.  But that was her girlfriend to a ‘t’ - why waste time first avoiding having a conversation about something and then the talk itself if there was something she could do that rendered the need for a chat redundant?  So, rather than agonising about it, Bernie had one day just put a couple of Alex’s tops, a hairbrush and thing of deodorant and a handful of underwear and socks in her locker in amongst her own stuff.  There had been no drama or fuss about it - it was just one of the many little small ways that Bernie had shown Alex what she meant to her...the sort of little gestures that could be easily overlooked if you weren’t paying attention.  Alex couldn’t imagine how anyone could ever not pay attention to Bernie, but she was more than a bit biased….

 

“Er, Dr Dawson?”

 

“Yes Ms Wolfe?”  Confused, Alex stopped and turned back to look at Bernie, patting herself down as she turned, checking that yes, she did have her stethoscope, pen, phone and pass and no, she wasn’t still wearing a gown or gloves that she should have discarded.

 

“Locker room’s that way…”  Bernie gestured in the direction of the locker room which wasn’t the way Alex had been headed.  Too sleepy to try and bluff her way out of the mistake, Alex set off in the direction Bernie indicated, certain her cheeks were bright red

  
“I knew that…”   


	13. Chapter 13

“...any more questions?”  Bernie looked at Matt, Hari and Jako who all wore varying expressions of shock and relief as the news about their friend sank in.

 

“So he’ll be able to play footy?” Jako’s ears went rather red when Matt and Hari turned and looked at him, presumably in such a way to suggest Jako had lost the plot somewhere.  Nevertheless, the youngest of the group of friends persisted with the question that had clearly been weighing heavily on his mind during Bernie’s talk with them.  “When he gets these new legs?”

 

“I…”  Bernie was about to dismiss his question but seeing how intensely Jako was looking at her, she reconsidered her planned answer and instead asked her own question.  “Is that something Ro liked to do?”

 

“Yeah…”  Jako bunched his beret tightly in his fist as he focussed on the right memory. “...always kicking something if he had to stand still for more than two minutes...beer can, pebble...he did all these tricks.”  Watching his fist, Bernie saw his grip on his beret starting to loosen slightly - certainly she could picture what Ro must have been like as he wasn’t the only soldier she’d come across in her career whose instinctive response to being stood still was to start some sort of kick-about.  “He tried again, after…”  Jako’s hand was tightening around the beret again but Bernie decided to remain silent, correctly guessing there would be more that Jako was trying to say, in his way.  “He didn’t mind about his eyes, but his feet…” This time, Jako looked up at her, the moisture building in his eyes as clearly it was a painful memory for him, and judging by the reactions of Matt and Hari, not something they’d known about.

 

“I’m not an expert about prosthetics Jako, but…”  Bernie tucked a piece of hair that had settled against her nose back behind her ear, absently thinking that had never happened when she’d been in uniform...but then again, she’d not been able to get away with just tucking her hair behind her ears when she’d been in uniform.  “...Once he’s fully recovered from the surgery  _ and _ been fitted for his prosthetics  _ and _ adjusted to them…”  Her tone and firm look told all of them that what she had just outlined was not going to happen overnight.  “....if he wants to kick a football, I can’t see a reason why he wouldn’t be able to.”  Personally, she could think of at least a dozen things she’d rather do than kick a football, but that was beside the point.  “But that’s something for another day Jako.  Let’s get him up and about first shall we?”

 

“Yes Ma’am!”  Looking much brighter, Jako sat back in his chair, his previously crushed beret left to just rest on his knee.  Clearly Ro’s distress at not being able to kick a football, which Bernie could easily understand given the injuries he sustained, had been keenly felt by Jako and consequently been preying on his mind.  That she’d taken his question seriously had also helped, but then Bernie was used to all manner of random questions being asked of her by soldiers in the immediate aftermath of their injuries and operations.  She’d never actually considered compiling a list of ‘weird and wonderful’ questions, but were she to try, Jako’s question was unlikely to make the top ten.

 

“Any other questions?” Bernie looked at each of them in turn, reasonably confident that there probably weren’t any more burning questions but knowing that would probably change when they saw their friend.  “No?  In that case…”  She stood up and moved to the door, chewing on her lip as she considered how she wanted to apply or break the ‘two visitors per patient’ rule.  “Come on, all of you.” 

 

“All of us?”  Matt looked at her in surprise and then looked to the sign on the wall just by the door of the family room that appeared to make it fairly clear that each patient could only have two visitors at once.  “But the rule…”  

 

“Made to be broken.”  Bernie opened the door and gestured for them to get a move on, which they promptly did. Hari grabbing Ro’s rucksack and bringing it with him, earned him a smile and nod from Bernie as he passed her.  “This way…”  

 

* * *

 

 

Entering AAU after her shower, Alex started to walk towards the nurse’s station to catch up on the overall ward situation before remembering that she wasn’t on shift and, now that Ro was on the ward, she had no patients to keep track of.  Turning off her ‘autopilot’, Alex changed course and headed for Bernie’s Office on AAU where there was an unknown quantity of cold ham and pineapple pizza with her name on it.  Seeing the door to the office was open, Alex lengthened her stride a fraction, irrationally worried that her pizza was being stolen.

 

“Oh.”  Stopped in the doorway, Alex felt her cheeks warm when she saw that the reason the door to the office was open was because Serena had just arrived and was in the process of putting her mug of coffee and plate of something down on her desk: she’d forgotten that Bernie shared her office with Serena, which just confirmed that whatever ‘wake up’ the hot shower had given her was superficial and going to be short lived.

 

“Alex.”  Serena stood in front of her desk chair, looking quizzically at the anaesthetist hovering in the doorway.  “I only just got here, not sure where Bernie is…” Serena looked from Alex to the other desk in the small office which looked to be only temporarily abandoned.

 

“She’s with Ro…” Alex gestured over her shoulder in the direction of his room.  “My brother and his mates…”  Alex shoved her hands in her pockets, not quite sure what to do with them otherwise, still hovering in the doorway.

 

“Of course.”  Serena mentally kicked herself for forgetting what was obvious now Alex had pointed it out, although mention of his friends reminded her of something else.  “Does he have family we should be contacting do you know?”  There was no reason why Alex should know, realised Serena as she finished asking the question - from what Serena remembered of their conversation before they’d even known Ro was going to be their patient and had just been last night’s DJ, Ro was her brother’s friend and  not a friend that Alex had met all that often.

 

“Major Horbain’s already done that…”  Alex felt another yawn sneaking up on her and tried her hardest to suppress it, not wanting to start another string of yawns if she could possibly help it.  “Ro’s brother’s also in the Marines, he’s away at the moment.”

 

“Away on holiday?” asked Serena, taking a sip of her coffee and belatedly noticing Alex was still hovering in the doorway.  “And come in!  Sit down!”  She nodded her head in the direction of Bernie’s desk.  “Consider this your permanent invitation.”

 

“Thanks.”  Sitting down in Bernie’s chair having left the office door open so they could both see and hear what was happening on the ward, Alex found the pizza box carefully positioned behind two stacks of files.  “Away as in deployed.”  Moving the two stacks of files to the other side of Bernie’s desk, Alex now had enough space to open the pizza box.  “At sea.”

 

“Oh.”  Serena took another sip of her coffee, almost certain she could feel the caffeine seeping into her bloodstream as she watched Alex reveal…  “Is that ham and pineapple?”

 

“Yup.”  Sending a silent ‘thank you’ to Matt and the boys for ordering an extra large pizza which therefore meant even a very hungry Bernie had only eaten half of it, Alex separated a slice from the remaining half and folded it before taking a big bite.

 

“On a pizza?”  Serena’s nose wrinkled, clearly not a fan.  “And cold?”  She shuddered and put aside her coffee mug just as Alex, mouthful swallowed, grinned.

 

“Bernie would say you’re a pizza snob.”  Alex took another large bite and chewed steadily while she looked around the chaos that was her girlfriend’s side of the office, trying to spot where Bernie would have left a drink.

 

“She likes it?”  Somehow, she wasn’t surprised by Bernie’s preference for a non-trendy, straightforward pizza, but pineapple?  On a pizza?

 

“Her favourite,” confirmed Alex after she’d swallowed her second mouthful and spotted the bottles of water lurking beside the filing cabinet to the side of the desk, again out of sight of the casual passer-by who might otherwise snaffle Bernie’s emergency supplies.  Leave Bernie unsupervised in a confined space for more than a minute and she’d start to make the place look chaotic and untidy.  There was, however, always a certain logic to the disorder that meant it wasn’t chaotic as far as Bernie was concerned and therefore, not chaotic for Alex either, who had over the years she’d known and loved Bernie, mastered the surgeon’s unique logic.

 

“Where was that?” asked Serena, distracted from her pizza pondering by Alex suddenly re-appearing from under the desk with a bottle of water.

 

“Where Bernie keeps her spare bottles of water.”  Alex wasn’t being deliberately evasive, she just wasn’t entirely sure how to explain that there were three places in any office that Bernie might keep bottles of water and, since this office didn’t have two of them, Alex hadn’t needed to look that hard.  “Did you want one?”

 

“I’m fine, thanks.”  Serena raised her coffee mug in salute to Alex’s offer and took a long sip as she tried to unravel this latest accidental discovery about her fellow consultant, before remembering that Bernie had once made some comment about spending most of her career in beige not khaki on account of the amount of time posted to deserts.  Suddenly, having a tendency to squirrel away spare bottles of water for another day made rather more sense to Serena.   “Why would I be a pizza snob?  Why can’t she be a pizza luddite?”

 

“Because you’ve not had halal goat pizza,” said Bernie, leaning against the doorframe.

 

“Adventurous.”  Serena’s face suggested she’d prefer to follow Alex’s lead and tuck into a slice of the cold ham and pineapple pizza.

 

“It was very good…”  

 

As Bernie remembered what had evidently been a rather memorable pizza, Alex swallowed her next mouthful of water and shot a mild ‘told you so’ look at Serena before tackling her third slice of pizza, relieved she’d stopped yawning long enough to be able to eat.  She knew from past experience that eating while in the middle of an uncontrollable bout of yawning generally gave her hiccups and anyone in her immediate vicinity a good laugh.

 

“How’s Mr Rothman?”  Serena guessed she’d probably end up calling him ‘Ro’ like Bernie and Alex were before he was discharged, but it felt wrong to be so familiar given she’d not yet been in the same room as him when he was conscious.

 

“Doing well.”  Bernie reached up and rubbed her the back of her neck while remaining propped up by the doorframe.  “Considering.”  Alex, slowing in her pizza consumption now her immediate hunger was dealt with, ripped off the crust from the next slice of pizza and held it out for Bernie, who took it automatically.  “He woke up a bit when the boys went in…”  She bit the end off the crust and chewed it distractedly, still deep in thought about Ro’s status.  “I think it was the light from the Ward through the open door…”  The swelling around his eye had gone down significantly since she’d first seen him with the combination of Ro no longer aggravating it by constantly rubbing at his face, the antibiotics she’d been giving him to combat infections generally and the cleaning and suturing of the worst of his scrapes while he’d been in theatre, all helping.  “...which is a good thing as it means his facial swelling’s gone down enough for his eye to open a bit.”  Bernie chewed on another mouthful of crust while Alex finished off the middle bit of the same slice.  He didn’t have much vision, but it was always going to be easier for him to navigate this next period of adjustment to his new situation if everything else was as familiar as possible for him, starting of course with his vision.

 

“He was groggy but knew Matt and Hari, knew he was in hospital…”  Once she’d completed an obs check, Bernie had been happy to leave him with his friends as they only had a few minutes more before they’d have to head back to their Base.  “Nicely judged Al…” Not that Bernie had been surprised when he’d been groggily awake but not feeling much pain or discomfort - Alex had always had a rather deft touch in Bernie’s opinion when it came to managing the mix of drugs that a patient needed to have immediately after a general anaesthetic.  ‘Resting comfortably’ was an oft-quoted patient state but not always actually attained by the patients, but in Ro’s case, it had been true.

 

“Surgeons made it easy for me…”  

 

Alex wasn’t particularly comfortable being praised for doing her job well, which was one of the reasons she and Bernie had originally got on so well as Major Wolfe was not effusive with her praise: a job well done was acknowledged with a nod and perhaps a smile as they then moved as a team onto their next patient.  Outright praise was reserved for crises and miracles, which was how Alex liked it.  Fortunately, with Ro, she had an easy out.  Picking up the open water bottle and holding it out for Bernie to take if she was thirsty, which she was, Alex deflected Bernie’s focus onto Serena.  “...Ms Campbell and Mr Hanssen did a very good job and stayed on their schedule.”  That was the real secret to being able to bring patients back to the land of the not-so-groggy quickly - being the anaesthetist for surgeons who provided accurate assessments of how long they anticipated the operation to take.

 

“Yes, well…”  Serena took another sip of her coffee and, much to her disappointment, she finished the mugful.  “...team effort.”  She pushed aside the plate of food that now held little appeal for her. It had been a kind thought of Henrik’s, to organise some food for them the moment they were out of theatre, but she had never really mastered the ability to eat any meal at any point in the day or night.  Her stomach was more aware of the time, which was almost 4am, than its emptiness - the only thing she could face eating had to be clearly identifiable as ‘breakfast’, and that didn’t include rice or curry.  “We better redo the roster…”  

 

Recognising that Serena’s statement could only be directed at her girlfriend, Alex started to get up, intending to vacate Bernie’s desk on the presumption that she’d probably need to use her computer.  Bernie however was uninterested in her desk and gestured for Alex to stay where she was.  Not a fan of the computer at the best of times, Bernie was perfectly content to stay leaning against the wall, her back to the window and ward.

 

“Why?”  While she waited for Serena’s explanation, Bernie finished the water Alex had started and put the empty bottle on the end of her desk, where it would have no doubt stayed for a week or so had Alex not immediately picked it up and tidied it into the rubbish bin. 

 

“Why?”  Serena looked at Bernie in total confusion.  Surely it was obvious?  It was almost 4am and while Serena had been down to do a double shift, she got to go home in a couple of hours for three days off.  Bernie however, should have finished about the time she’d arrived at the scene, and was due back on shift at midday to start a fairly punishing run of shifts in Serena’s opinion.

 

“There’s no need.”  Bernie looked at the clock on the wall of the office.  “I’ll just check Ro’s settled once his friends have gone…”  By her rough calculations, the Marines would have to leave no later than 0430 if they were going to be back on Base for the start of the new day.  “...I’ll be gone before your shift ends.  And Fletch will just thank us for the Overtime.”  She knew Fletch hadn’t been down to work a double, but he’d volunteered even before she’d headed out to the scene, although she’d not caught up on the reason why.  “Why was he working a double?”

 

“Agency blunder - we had to lend two of ours to ED, left us a bit thin but we were quiet at the time.  Fletch volunteered to stay…”

 

“Good job too.”  Bernie had no idea how he’d gone about organising the stretcher with all the monitoring equipment at the scene, but was certain based on what she’d seen of the nurse in her time at Holby that he’d managed it with less agro and quicker than most.  “You mind if we skip the curry?” 

 

It took Serena a moment to realise that Bernie’s question had been directed at Alex not her, clearly of the opinion that the question of the rosters was closed; a glance, meanwhile at her still full plate was suggesting she’d already elected to skip the curry.

 

“I gathered that,” agreed Alex, grinning despite her tiredness, not surprised that Bernie had apparently remembered their dinner plan.   “You’ve forgotten about the boiler again, haven’t you?”

 

“No, I definitely remember not being able to fix the boiler…”  However she’d showered when she got back to the hospital and no longer smelled like a sewer, so a lack of hot water at home wasn’t a problem, nor was the lack of heating going to stop her sleeping.   “What  _ have _ I forgotten?”

 

“The plumber?” Alex closed the now empty pizza box, deciding that when Bernie went to check on Ro she’d go and find a more suitable rubbish bin for it and the water bottle.

 

“Ah.”  

 

Chewing on her lip, Bernie stared into space as she tried to work out what was the best way forwards.  She knew she was too tired to start her next shift without some sleep, but the thought of having to cover for later today was her idea of paperwork hell.  Although, to be fair, any solution that involved paperwork was automatically Bernie’s idea of hell.

 

* * *

 

 

“Bern?”

 

“Hmm?”  Blinking, Bernie realised she’d let her mind wander and had therefore missed Serena leaving the office and the door closing.  “Where’s Serena?”

 

“Another patient…” 

 

When a nurse Alex hadn’t recognised appeared in the doorway wanting Serena to review another patient, Serena had stood up and moved past the oblivious Bernie to the door, shooting a questioning look in Alex’s direction.  Why hadn’t Bernie reacted at all to the nurse’s knock on the doorframe?  Or to Serena brushing past her?    Understanding enough of the nurse’s request to know Serena didn’t have the time for her to explain, Alex had just smiled and nodded, attempting to reassure Serena that Bernie really was fine, just...being Bernie.  Clearly it had worked, as after a final concerned glance in Bernie’s direction, Serena had quietly left the office, shutting the door behind her, leaving Bernie to Alex.

 

“...you were having a bit of a think?”  

 

Major Wolfe’s ‘bit of a think’ moments had been somewhat legendary at Bastion - the first time Alex had been a witness to one, she’d been as disconcerted as Serena had just been.  Somehow, no matter how chaotic or noisy an environment was, when faced with a particularly challenging problem, Bernie managed to just switch off from everything except that which needed to be solved and work her way through it while the world happened around her.  She wasn’t completely oblivious to her surroundings - certain noises and sounds, like her name or the sound of a patient crashing, were still heard by her, but the general chaos was blanked out.  

 

Often, this all happened but was barely noticed by anyone else as Bernie’s skill and experience saw her understanding the situation and forming a plan in an instant.  But at times, when she was tired or the situation was especially random, Bernie would have a ‘bit of a think’ for long enough that the rest of the world would notice.

 

“Not sure about that…”  Bernie pushed away from the wall and moved over to perch on the end of her desk so she was facing Alex.  “...I think I was asleep with my eyes open.”

 

“Is there an on-call room around here?”  As she asked the question, Alex reached out and caught Bernie’s fingers with her own, unable to stop the involuntary smile when Bernie’s fingers tangled with hers and everything just felt ‘right’.  Bernie’s touch had had that effect on her since the first tentative moments of their relationship, with the most innocent of touches feeling electric, recharging her energies and helping her feel whole, like a missing part of her was found again.

 

“Umm…”  Bernie thought for a moment, trying to remember where she’d been told the consultant’s on-call room for AAU was, not having ever used it, her thumb absently tracing patterns on Alex’s hand.  “...Yes.  Code for the door is…C1548X.  Why?”

 

“Because you are going to sleep here and start your next shift while I go home and deal with the plumber.”  Standing up as she spoke, Alex cut off Bernie’s expected protest by putting her finger on her lover’s lips.  “I’ve given myself the day off.”  She’d texted the agency to remove herself from the call list for the fast approaching day-shifts right before she’d had her shower. 

 

“What time is the plumber coming again?” asked Bernie when Alex had taken her finger away, her hand now resting on Bernie’s shoulder, gently teasing at the strands of soft hair that grew at the nape of Bernie’s neck, something that Alex knew always helped to make Bernie sleepy.

 

“Any time from 8.”  On another occasion, Alex might have gone on to tease Bernie about Alex needing to remind her about something the surgeon had organised in the first place, but this wasn’t the right time for that.

 

Bernie’s grimace confirmed what Alex had already thought - that could mean anything.  Given that their main priority was sorting the hot water problem so they could once again shower for work, and the bathroom was en suite, there was no way either of them could get any sleep at home before the boiler was fixed.

 

“You sure you don’t mind?”  

 

“I’m sure I don’t mind.”  As she parroted Bernie’s words back to her, Alex continued to caress Bernie’s neck, underneath her loosely hanging hair.

 

“Mmm…”  Bernie felt herself losing the battle, with sleep, with Alex… “You don’t play fair…” she mumbled, letting her head loll to the side as she reached forwards and caught hold of Alex’s hips.

 

“Nope…”  Alex shifted forwards, so she was stood with her feet in between Bernie’s as she threaded the fingers of her other hand through her girlfriend’s hair, keeping it from falling across Bernie’s face.  “...not when it comes to you…” 

 

At the back of her mind, she was still conscious of the quiet little voice muttering about ‘compromising the Major’ and being aware that the blinds were open so anyone could see into the office, but she was getting better and better at ignoring it.  When she felt Bernie’s fingers touch her bare skin, having worked their way through a gap between jeans and top that definitely hadn’t been there when she’d got dressed after her shower, even that little voice shut up.

 

“...now who’s not playing fair?” she asked, her hips instinctively rotating forwards in response to her lover’s touch, her forehead coming to rest  against Bernie’s as they leaned together,

 

“All’s fair in love…” Bernie angled her head slightly, their noses brushing, causing both to smile.  “...and I love you…” murmured Bernie softly, her lips caught by Alex’s as she finished saying ‘you’.

  
  


After a moment that could have been minutes as far as Alex and Bernie were concerned but was actually only a few seconds, they both reluctantly pulled back from the kiss.  With matching, slightly sheepish expressions, Bernie supported Alex as she regained her balance and straightened up to her full height, Alex’s hands slipping from blonde hair in the process.  As much as they might have wanted to just stay in each other’s arms, they each knew that there were other things requiring their more immediate attention.

 

“Do you…” Alex had been in the process of asking Bernie if she had made any arrangements with the plumber already about paying for whatever was going to be needed to fix their boiler, but interrupted herself with another jaw-cracking yawn.

 

“New plan.”  Standing up and looking around the office, a passing observer might have thought it was Bernie who had been the one with the generally calmer Sunday and afternoon nap, not Alex.  “Here…”  Bernie, testament to the energising power of working a double shift, bent down and grabbed Alex’s bag and coat from the visitor chairs and passed them to Alex, who was still recovering from the surprise of the yawn.  “...get some kip here before going to meet the plumber?”  Bernie knew that Alex would want to say goodbye to Matt, and probably make sure Bernie actually made it to the on-call room for some sleep.  By the time she then made it back to their flat, knowing Alex, she’d decide it wasn’t worth lying down for an hour or two.

 

“Where?”  Blinking to try and ‘wake up’ her dry and scratchy eyes, Alex caught her bottom lip and tried to work out where Bernie was planning she had this nap.  “I’m not on staff…”  As a locum, she was occasionally told where there was an on-call room if she was working a very long shift overnight but usually, the hospitals all took the attitude that they’d paid for the locum to be wide awake and crack on.

 

“But I am.”  Bernie tucked Alex’s coat under her left arm and picked up the bag while she wrapped her right arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders.  “C’mon…”

 

“You want to share?”  Suddenly much more awake, Alex planted her feet firmly and became virtually immovable.

 

“Problem?”  Confused, Bernie looked at Alex with a frown.  “I know it’s smaller than the bed at the flat…”  Assuming it was a single bed of course, but that would still be luxuriously roomy compared to some of the corners they’d sneaked occasional naps in whilst on tour.  “...but bigger than a sleeping bag…” Then a new thought struck Bernie, prompting her to give an exaggerated sniff.  “I don’t still smell do I?”

 

“What?”  Alex joined in the exaggerated sniffing without realising she was doing so.  “No!  You smell…”  She sniffed again, smiling when she recognised the mix of shampoo, soap and detergent that she was starting to associate with ‘civilian Bernie’.  “...like you.”  

 

“So what’s the problem?  With having a nap here?”

 

“Two people, one on-call room…”  Alex looked at Bernie, wondering if her brilliant but at times completely oblivious girlfriend was going to work it out for herself or whether Alex was going to have to spell it out.

 

“Are you seriously telling me there are rules about that here?”  It hadn’t ever occurred to Bernie to read the HR policies in any great detail when she’d joined Holby General, deciding she had other things to worry about first.

 

“Probably.”  Actually, Alex hadn’t been anywhere near one of the Holby on-call rooms yet.  “At least, St Austin’s and St Mark’s are big on it.”  At the time, Alex hadn’t really noticed it as being a particularly odd directive - it had been something of a given in the Army that staff accommodations were either provided on a one person one bed basis in non-conflict zones or a kip where you could basis in active theatres.  Either way, the existing military conduct rules about non-fraternisation and so on were always in force, not that that had much of an impact...

 

“St Mark’s should pay more attention to their trauma training…” grumbled Bernie, not appreciating being reminded why she’d even ended up effectively working a double shift with a good chunk of that out in the field.  In an ideal world, she should have never known about the scene as St Mark’s would have managed.  However, given her history with Ro and his history with Alex and her brother, Bernie was very glad she’d ended up being Ro’s surgeon and having him on her ward for the next few days at least.

 

“I’m not sure there’s any interdependency there Bern…” Alex was, for the first time in a very long time, finding her girlfriend hard to read - not only was the surgeon normally something of a rule follower, but she was usually not one to start grumbling either.

 

“You’re probably right,” agreed Bernie, catching her bottom lip in her teeth as she checked that she still had a secure hold on Alex’s coat and, in the process of doing so became suddenly much more readable as far as Alex was concerned as she saw Bernie’s ‘smirk of mischief’ start to form.  “But I’m including it in my argument if anyone tries to tell me off.”

 

“Did you swallow any of the water in the drain?” teased Alex as she took her coat from Bernie so she wouldn’t get a stiff arm while trying to feel Bernie’s forehead, like she was checking for a temperature.

 

“Funny…” Wrapping her arm once more round Alex’s shoulders, Bernie set about again trying to steer Alex towards where she thought the AAU consultant’s on-call room was.  “...I decide to break two rules and suddenly I’m feverous…”

 

“Two?”  Laughing as she opened the door for them both, Alex slipped out of Bernie’s one armed hug so they could actually get through the doorway and then head off wherever it was that Bernie was going to get some sleep.

 

“I’m becoming quite the rebel,” agreed Bernie, thinking Alex was reacting with surprise to her breaking more than one rule during this overlong shift.  “I let all four of them stay with Ro just now…”

 

“That’s the other rule you’re counting?” Alex stepped aside as Fletch and a porter came past with a patient on a trolley, mentally crossing her fingers that Bernie wouldn’t get dragged into another case.

 

“You had another one in mind?  And it’s this way...just along from the locker room I think.” 

 

“Ah.”  Pivoting, Alex fell into step with Bernie as they headed across the Ward in the other direction to the one she’d started to automatically drift towards.  “I think most people would at least mention the helicopter…”

 

“How was that breaking a rule?”  Bernie pressed the button to release the door lock as Alex opened the ward door and waited for Bernie to go through first.  “It’s not like he could have coped with the road transfer…”

 

“No,” agreed Alex smiling with affection at the genuinely confused Bernie who was generally a fairly good follower of other people’s rules, but only when they were compatible with Bernie’s golden rule, the rule that she lived and worked to before all others, the rule that she had taught so many others, Alex included, to follow as well.  Soldier or civilian, enemy or ally, there’s a parent, sibling, child or lover that’s scared witless, so we stand up straight, shoulders back and do our best.  As long as she had the ability to stand and hold a scalpel, Bernie would be there, shoulders back, doing her best, and she expected everyone else to be there with her.  “I take your point.”

 

“But?”

 

“No buts.”  Alex looked up at the door they were just passing.  “We’ve overshot...what was the code?”

 

“C1548X.”  Bernie shrugged when Alex looked at her, an eyebrow quirked in amusement.  “And no, I have no idea how I could remember that but not where the room was.”

 

“Just like old times then,” concluded Alex with a grin, unsurprised when the door opened first try - Bernie really was annoyingly good at remembering codes but hopeless at remembering directions.

 

“Just like old times,” agreed Bernie, looking at the narrow single bed in the room as Alex walked in and gave it a tentative prod, trying to find anything that might resemble a bed spring, “except I think my rack had more springs?”

 

“Your rack had no springs…”  Alex gave up prodding and sat down on the bed before swiveling her legs up and stretching out full length on the bed, her feet hanging off the end in deference to still wearing her boots.  “...but that was by design.  This…”  She shifted her hips as she tried to experiment with different positions across the narrow mattress. “...has no springs by accident…”

 

“But no squeak,” observed Bernie dryly, Alex’s shuffling about conducted in total silence as far as the bed was concerned.  “And no,” she added quickly, seeing Alex prop herself up on her elbow, knowing exactly what the anaesthetist was thinking, “that wasn’t a hint…”  Anything more that she might have been about to add was lost in a yawn that caught Bernie completely by surprise.

 

“Thank god for that!”  Flopping back down onto her back, “No, I don’t mean…” Alex then lifted her head back up, suddenly realising how her comment could have been interpreted by Bernie, only to be surprised to see she was no longer lurking just inside the door but was now much closer, prompting Alex to shift over so she was lying nearer to the wall, giving Bernie a tiny strip of bed to perch on.  “I didn’t mean…” Alex reached for and caught hold of Bernie’s hand, their fingers instinctively threading together.  “...that I didn’t ever, just, that is…”  

 

Just as Alex stumbled to a stop, Bernie’s self control deserted her and she laughed in the way that only she could, only stopping when Alex tugged the pillow out from behind her head and none-too-gently thumped Bernie with it.  It was only after the second swat with the pillow that Alex belatedly remembered how earlier, before the call to go help rescue Ro, Bernie had been the one to first express the need for a night with a little more sleep and therefore, with reluctance but necessity, rather a lot less sex than last night.  “Why you…!”

 

Still laughing, Bernie caught hold of the pillow and began to retaliate by starting to tickle the very ticklish Alex, causing her to start laughing as in turn, she tried to find Bernie’s one ticklish spot, and, in the process, they both proved beyond a doubt that the bed definitely did not squeak.

  
Or have a spring.


	14. Chapter 14

 

“How’s the battlefield looking Fletch?” asked Serena, emerging from Theatre One after finishing what she hoped would be her final surgery of her double shift.  While it wasn’t over yet, she did only have seven minutes left so felt brave enough to mentally cross her fingers.

 

“Not too bad actually…”  Picking up another set of results that had just arrived, Fletch looked through the report to work out which patient they belonged to.  “Oi! Mate?”  Starting to set off after the porter who’d just delivered the results, he promised Serena he’d only be ‘one sec’ before breaking into a jog when it became clear the porter hadn’t heard him shout.

 

“How he can run…” Shaking her head in disbelief at how much energy Fletch seemed to still have despite also having worked a double shift, and his had included an unscheduled helicopter expedition, Serena sat down at the computer at the nurses’ station and began the process of checking that she was up-to-date with all her notes now, rather than in a few minutes’ time when she was back in her office.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that.”  No longer holding the results report, Fletch dropped down heavily into the chair next to her.

 

“Problem?”

 

“Nah...results for Mavis Applemore, but she was transferred up to Keller an hour ago.”  Fletch nudged the computer mouse to get rid of the bland and downright irritating Holby NHS Trust screensaver that gave him a headache.  “Seemed easier to just give ‘em back as he was going to Keller.”

 

“You got her onto Keller?”  Serena made no attempt to hide her amazement at this miracle he’d apparently worked.  “How?”

 

“No clue.”  Typing in his password so he could access the patient records database, he pulled up Mrs Applemore’s record.  “Mr Griffin volunteered.”  He angled the screen towards Serena so she could see, wondering if his boss had any idea how it had happened.  “He never volunteers to take patients.”

 

“No, you’re right…” Serena leaned forwards so she could read the notes properly, not having noticed anything that would immediately explain why Keller would suddenly feel they had a bed given they’d originally refused to take her from the ED.   “She should never have been here…who did the ward admit?”

 

“Ms Wolfe.”  It had been the first patient she’d seen, way back at the start of her shift when AAU had almost run out of beds.  “She’d not been pleased to take her…”  Which, thought Fletch, was putting it mildly: he didn’t think he’d seen Ms Wolfe quite so icy when she’d spoken to Keller to find out what their excuses were.

 

“That’s your reason then.”  Mystery solved, Serena couldn’t help but smile as she wondered how long they could take advantage of Ric’s current need to grovel to Bernie.

 

“It is?”  Fletch looked at the screen one final time, wondering what it was Serena had seen before giving up and looking at his boss again.  “I don’t get it.”

 

“For the next few days, if we’ve got problems with Keller, get Bernie to make the call…”

 

“She got a new superpower I don’t know about?”

 

“Something like that.  Ric’s trying to grovel.”

 

“To Ms Wolfe?  Why?”

 

“Because flirting didn’t work.”  Deciding that she’d probably gossiped as much if not more than she probably should have, Serena leaned back in her chair and contemplated both the clock and the admit board.  “How is the home front down here on AAU then?” she asked, aware of the extra bodies appearing on the ward as the staff for the next shift started congregating.

 

“Well…”  Swivelling round on his chair, Fletch wondered where to start, before deciding that the patients were pretty self-explanatory, which just left… “...the Army’s asleep in the call room, the Royal Marines went home about half four, Mr Hanssen was looking for you but didn’t want to leave a message and we’ve got a full set starting shift in under a minute.”  Fletch wasn’t sure he could remember the last time they had started a Monday day shift with everyone turning up, no agency staff or people borrowed from other wards, which made this a pretty special morning, although he couldn’t ever remember Ms Wolfe using the on-call room to get some sleep either.

 

“Miracles do happen.”  Impressed, Serena stood up, giving his shoulder a squeeze of thanks in the process. 

 

“Enjoy your days off Ms Campbell,” said Fletch, seeing Raf and Morven appearing with mugs of coffee in hand, ready to take over the ward and carry on wherever they were needed.

 

“Thanks Fletch, all yours Raf?”

 

“Aye.  Have a good one Serena…Right Fletch, what we got?”  

 

“Not as much as you’d expected Mate…” began Fletch, knowing that when Raf had left yesterday the ward had still been somewhat chaotic and with little hint that it would quieten down like it had done.  “...but it’s nice and early still.  So, starting from the top, there’s Mr Aims in two….”

 

And, just like that, AAU ‘officially’ shifted from Sunday night to Monday morning, a new team starting a new day.

 

* * *

  
  


“Al…”  Blinking sleepily, Bernie muttered in her girlfriend’s ear as she tried to wake her up.

 

“Mmmm…”  Still mostly asleep, Alex responded to Bernie’s voice by trying to snuggle more deeply into her warm body while also pulling Bernie’s right arm, which had been lying across Alex’s hip and middle, tight against her chest.

 

“Ally-wally…” Not enjoying the chill of the cold wall against her back now Alex had pushed back against her, Bernie began to resort to more underhand tactics to get Alex to wake up, starting with her least favourite taunting nickname from childhood.  “...time to wake up.”

 

“Fivem’ore min’tes,” slurred Alex, shuffling again, Bernie’s attempt to push herself away from the wall backfiring somewhat as Alex instinctively pushed back against her, clearly interpreting it as an attempt by Bernie to get even more snuggly.  “Comfy…”

 

“Final warning Al…” grumbled Bernie, her normal amusement at Alex’s inability to wake up easily tempered by the certain knowledge that in order to get Alex to wake up Bernie was going to probably get elbowed, kicked or shoved back into the wall.  “...or do you want me to tickle you?”  

 

“No tick’l…” mumbled Alex, nevertheless starting to wake up a bit, not least because of the gently tickling feeling she was starting to feel along her sternum - by clutching Bernie’s hand to her, Alex had inadvertently given Bernie unrestricted tickling access.  “Snug-gle…” she muttered, shifting again in Bernie’s embrace so she was lying on her back, unaware she was nearly halfway off the bed as she tried to move Bernie’s hand from tickling to something more fun for both of them.

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you Al…” and, with a final precautionary shift so that hopefully her more tender spots were not immediately aligned with either an elbow or knee, Bernie started to tickle Alex.

 

“Hey!”  Jolting upright, very much awake, Alex would have fallen off the bed had she not put a foot down on the floor to balance her as Bernie, seeing the tickling had worked, immediately caught hold of Alex and pulled her back into her embrace.

 

“Hi.”  Shifting so she was now lying on her back, her head just about on the pillow, Bernie bent her legs at the knees so she could plant her feet flat on the mattress and therefore shift her hips into a more comfortable position.

 

“You’re awake…” With Bernie now lying on her back, Alex sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes, noticing the time on her mobile phone.  “...because I slept through the alarm?” 

 

“I turned it off.”  Bernie repositioned the pillow underneath her head so her neck was feeling more comfortable and reached out for Alex’s hand.  “Woke up about half an hour ago.”  Which, realised Alex, working backwards from the 0712 that her phone was saying was the current time, meant Bernie had so far had about two hours of sleep.

 

“Bern…”  Concerned, Alex leaned forwards and brushed strands of blonde hair off her girlfriend’s face.  Bernie wasn’t the best of sleepers as a rule, and Alex still felt guilty every time either her nightmares or alarm woke Bernie.  She didn’t think she’d had a nightmare, quite the opposite in fact, with Alex’s memories of her rapidly fading dream being wholly positive and, well mainly centred on being snuggly with Bernie.

 

“No nightmare…”  Knowing what she was thinking, Bernie caught hold of Alex’s hand and pressed a kiss onto the palm, “...and you didn’t elbow me or try to lie on me…”  Bernie smiled against Alex’s palm when she saw her head dip in an attempt to hide her blush behind her hair at Bernie’s inadvertent reminder that Alex was at times something of a wriggly sleeper.  Bernie, by contrast, just lay down and stayed put irrespective of whether she was sleeping in a sleeping bag, on a narrow Army camp bed or in the much larger queen sized bed in the flat they were both calling home.  “I just woke up.”

 

“And stayed awake.”  Alex had learned a long time ago to not directly challenge Bernie on how much sleep she was or wasn’t getting between shifts, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still worry about her.

 

“I will go back to sleep when you’ve gone…” Bernie grinned crookedly at Alex as she tucked an arm behind her head, underneath the pillow.  “Promise.”  

 

There was something about the way that Bernie was lying, looking at her with bright eyes that were still and steady, that made Alex not only believe her lover was going to go back to sleep, but that she was genuinely unconcerned about her early waking.  That, in Alex’s experience, meant Bernie had been having a think about something...

 

“You were having a think…”  Seeing Bernie’s slight nod and widening grin as both confirmation that she was correct and permission to keep guessing, Alex shifted position slightly on the bed so she was less precariously perched. Absently picking up the drawstring of Bernie’s shorts, which the surgeon had repurposed from gym kit to pyjamas, not feeling like changing back into scrubs or sleeping in her shirt and jeans, Alex started to fiddle with the cord.  “...but not a worry…”  She’d become very familiar with what a worrying Bernie looked like when they had been in Afghanistan, but that Bernie was very different to the relaxed woman lying on the bed next to her.

 

“Not a worry,” agreed Bernie, pushing herself up into a sitting position, her hamstrings protesting when she tried to stretch her legs out before she’d finished sitting up properly, prompting her to wince.

 

“Hamstring?” guessed Alex, moving her hand that had been playing with the drawstrings down the inside of Bernie’s thigh which enabled her to press her fingertips firmly into her girlfriend’s protesting muscles.

 

“Mmm…”  Concentrating on sitting up comfortably, Bernie shifted and shuffled until she was sat up with her legs crossed in front of her, Alex’s hand now resting on her bent bare knee.  “...yeah.  And stiff.”  Now she was upright, she was starting to notice all the other little aches and pulls that were other little reminders that her last shift had contained rather more crouching and clambering than she’d become accustomed to of late.  “Move in with me?”  

 

“Not surprised…” Alex had still been thinking about the physical toll that last shift had taken, on both of them but Bernie more so, trying to remember what stretches she’d done to cope with shift after shift on MERT duty.  “...wait, what?”  Mind suddenly completely blank, Alex found herself looking at Bernie with a slack jaw, not quite believing what she thought she’d just heard.

 

“Move in with me?” repeated Bernie quietly, picking up Alex’s hand from where it was resting on her bare knee and threading her fingers through Alex’s slack ones.

 

“My stuff’s already at your place…” Alex lapsed into silence as she looked at Bernie, really looked at this brilliant, talented surgeon whose single-minded focus and determination to fight for the lives of the patients who passed before her had in turn saved so many lives. 

 

Bernie’s skill in surgery was being able to look at the situation in front of her and look past the bleeds and the ruptures and the breaks, shutting out the noise and distractions that sought to obscure the single decisive act that would bring about stability, even if it was only for a minute.  A minute was all she needed, to then make the next incision or stitch or some more dramatic act that brought about the next minute of stability.  And on she’d go, minute by minute, second by second if needed, simultaneously managing to see the whole patient and the individual bleeds, ruptures and breaks.  Hours would pass, theatre staff coming and going around them as patients came in from the battlefields and went out to the wards, both nearby on Base and back home, but still Bernie would be there, Alex at the head of the operating table, keeping them under and keeping an eye on these patients that minute by minute, Bernie brought back from the brink, stitching, cutting, repairing, saving and sacrificing damaged tissues as she fought to stabilise, to steady and secure life as best she could.

 

So what was Bernie seeing?

 

Alex’s stuff  _ was  _ in the flat...her toothbrush was in the bathroom, her pyjamas were on  _ her  _ side of the bed...there was a drawer in the desk Bernie had bought, that had her bits and pieces of paperwork that she still had to deal with...there was the stack of unopened mail for her, forwarded from Aldershot…

 

Aldershot.

 

Regimental HQ.

 

Where Alex would have returned to, unless she’d renewed her contract with the flying hospital and effectively left the UK for good…

 

Joining the Army had helped her achieve the ‘leaving home’ that she’d seen university promising since not long after Matty had been born...it had become ‘home’ but in turn made her rootless, living without having a base or foundation...and then she’d met Bernie...and ‘home’ became so much more.

 

Her stuff had ended up at the flat because she had nowhere else to keep it…

 

“I’m asking you to keep your stuff with mine because that’s where _you_ _want_ to be…” Bernie reached for Alex’s face but changed her mind at the last moment and instead dropped it back down into her lap, suddenly nervous and anxious. “...not because there’s nowhere else to put it…”

 

“That’s what you were thinking about?”  As she asked the question Alex mentally kicked herself.  That wasn’t what she’d meant to say first, but before she could correct herself, Bernie was talking again.

 

“Yes… I…”  Chewing on her lip, Bernie looked at Alex with clouded, worried eyes that Alex couldn’t bear to see for another second.

 

“Yes.”  Reaching across, Alex grabbed Bernie’s other hand and, squeezing it tight, lifted it up and pulled it towards her face, hoping Bernie took the hint that her original plan was welcome and wanted.

 

“Yes?” Hand hovering in mid air between them, Bernie was confused, momentarily blank as to what the question was that Alex was answering.

 

“Yes…”  Alex traced Bernie’s cheekbone with her thumb and then slipped her fingers into tangled blonde strands of hair that suddenly made her wonder about her own ‘bed-head’ look.  “...I would love to move in with you…”  She felt Bernie’s fingers gently touch her cheek and smiled, turning her head to try and coax those fingers to come closer to her lips but they danced away, nimbly skipping across her skin to her ear and neck.  “I love you…”

 

“Good.”  Bernie’s grin shifted to an immediate frown, causing Alex to smirk rather than worry - there was something in Bernie’s touch that kept the worry at bay.  “That you’re moving in, I mean.  Not good that…”  Realising she was digging a hole for herself, Bernie clamped her mouth shut in an almost comical fashion, making Alex chuckle.

 

“I mean, it’s good that you love me, because I love you too…”  Alex could see Bernie’s mounting frustration as she failed to say what she meant, despite seemingly finding all the right words.

 

“Bern?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I know what you mean…”  As much as she often enjoyed teasing Bernie, especially when she stood a chance of besting the dry wit of the surgeon with quips of her own, this was too special a moment for teasing.

 

“That’s a relief.”  Looking relaxed and relieved, Bernie became aware of the random strands of hair tickling her face and tried to blow them away with little success, only to be interrupted by a yawn that reminded both of them what time it roughly was and, in turn, why they or at least Alex, was up at this time.

 

Leaning forwards again, Alex caught Bernie’s parted lips with her own and kissed her, only to be immediately kissed back as they started a new conversation that covered everything they’d just spoken about and more.   Finding it so much easier to communicate their feelings and emotions when the language they were using was formed by lips and teeth and tongues working together to tease, taste and caress, their hesitation and nervousness was banished once more, banished once more by a freshly renewed bond of love and promise of commitment.

 

“Get some sleep?” pleaded Alex when they finally parted, each instinctively knowing not to test the other’s resolve with a lingering touch, Alex sitting on the edge of the narrow bed and Bernie once more sitting with her back resting against the wall, using the feeling of the coldness of the wall through her thin t-shirt to anchor her firmly back in the mundane reality of the grey morning.

 

“Promise.”  It was an easy promise to make, knew Bernie, feeling another yawn creeping up on her.  “Good luck with the plumber...you got the car key?”

 

“Taxi.”  Standing up and reaching for her coat, Alex watched as Bernie swivelled round so she was once more lying down on the bed, this time on her side, bare legs stretched out.  “Keep your parking space…” The likelihood of getting a parking space outside the flat was fairly remote, and if she was honest with herself, Alex knew she was still too tired to sensibly drive.  “I’ll let you know how the boiler goes…”

 

“Thanks…”  Bernie shifted slightly, realising that the bed was far lumpier and uncomfortable without Alex lying in it with her.  “Curry?  Later?”

 

“Sounds perfect…”  Now wearing her coat, Alex gathered up the blanket that had ended up kicked down at the bottom of the mattress when they’d both been lying in the bed, the sheet having being adequate on its own.  “Alarm set?”

 

“Yup…”  Reaching for the blanket Alex was holding, Bernie’s grin was becoming increasingly sleepy as she was no longer even attempting to fight to stay awake, every last drop of adrenalin exhausted.

 

“Sleep well Bern…”  

 

Standing up, Alex picked up her bag and boots, and with a last fond look her now very asleep girlfriend, quietly slipped from the room.  After a quick stop in the locker room to pull her boots on and splash some water on her face, she set off for the hospital’s taxi rank… she had just enough time to get home before the plumber hopefully arrived.

 

Home,  _ their home -  _ it came complete with a currently broken boiler and a front door that locked you out when you took the bins out more often than not.  But it was easy to put the front door key in your pocket and they were going to get the boiler fixed.

 

Then it would be perfect.

  
Their home… their happy bubble.


	15. EPILOGUE

**THURSDAY AFTERNOON**

 

“For you.”

 

Startled out of her daydreaming, Alex was surprised to see Dominic Copeland stood by her in the Wyvern Wing coffee shop queue holding a cardboard tray with two large cardboard cups and two small containers that could only contain espressos.

 

“Take!” Dom wiggled the tray under her face.  “Inhale the caffeine!”

 

“Sorry…” Obediently taking hold of the cardboard tray, Alex stepped out of the queue and followed the younger doctor through the crowded tables until they were stood in a relatively out of the way spot in the corridor.  “Thank you?”  Completely at a loss as to what was prompting this unexpected coffee gift, Alex looked at him in confusion.

 

“I, uh…”  Taking a sip of his own coffee, Dom automatically checked out the muscle bound guy pushing his friend or partner with the broken leg outside, before refocusing on Alex again.  “...I owe you an apology.”

 

“Oh?”  Not that she wasn’t grateful for the coffee, because Alex was - it was her first time working a shift on Darwin and it was proving to be tougher going than she’d anticipated.  Medically it was fine - she was hardly inexperienced when it came to cardiothoracic surgeries, but knowing it was the ward where Bernie had been a patient, the ward that had provided the backdrop to her most traumatic recurring nightmare?  That had been taking its toll on her.  Still, no matter how desperate she was for coffee, she wasn’t going to start drinking it until she knew what Dom was trying to apologise for.

 

“Sunday?  Getting the coffee?”  

 

“I seem to remember I was the one who tortured you and your hangover…” Dom grimaced when he realised she was going to need him to spell it out for her.

 

“After that, with Ms Campbell...when I…”  He took another long sip of his still too hot coffee, playing for time.

 

“When you condemned me to a life of fruit tea and knitting?” asked Alex, deciding she wasn’t actually cruel enough to make him say it.

 

“And hugs.”  Grinning in spite of supposedly trying to demonstrate contrition, Dom did try to defend himself.  “I definitely mentioned hugs.”

 

“Arms around the shoulder, no contact below the waist?” guessed Alex, enjoying the opportunity to have a couple of minutes of easy banter with him in a way she was not feeling able to do on Darwin.  She’d been doing alright until she’d been introduced to Zosia March who’d immediately asked if she was the person who’d sent Bernie the basket of grapes.  After that, she’d been unable to shake off the memories from those days immediately after the IED explosion.

 

“Ribs.”  Dom looked pleased with himself until he folded his arms across his chest, at which point he remembered the fundamental anatomy difference between men and women.  “No, not ribs…”

 

“So the coffee’s an apology for condemning me  _ and  Ms Wolfe… _ ” Alex had intended to leave Bernie out of the conversation but seeing how deeply he was digging himself into his self-created hole, she couldn’t resist adding to her fun.  “...to a life of fruit tea, knitting and arms’ length pats on the shoulder?”

 

Dom opened his mouth to protest that wasn’t what he’d meant, only to close it again and sheepishly nod because she was right, that was  _ exactly  _ what he’d meant.

 

“Thank you.”  Lifting the cardboard tray of cups up, like she would do if she were toasting him, Alex wondered what else to say - she hadn’t been expecting an apology, or even for it to be brought up again.  She was about to ask him how he’d worked out he’d got his assumption wrong, when she worked it out.  “Hari told you.”

 

“Yeah… I saw him, here… he was waiting for Ms Wolfe’s pizza...”  Now he thought about it, although Dom could remember Hari telling him that he knew Alex and Bernie, and his connection with the DJ, but he didn’t remember Hari explaining how he knew the two Army medics.  “How…”

 

“Did we all end up in the club together?”  Seeing Dom nod, Alex continued to answer her own question, although not sure how much Dom actually knew, she started at the beginning and hoped to quickly get a sense of how much of the puzzle he was missing.  “Hari and his friends were there to support the DJ…”  He was still nodding, so she decided to skip to the punch line.  “One of those friends is my little brother.”

 

“Your  _ little _ brother?”  Dom vaguely remembered first spotting Hari when he was with a couple of whom Dom presumed at the time were his friends, neither of whom he’d have ever described as ‘little’.

 

“Younger…”  Alex caught her lower lip with her teeth as she did some quick mental arithmetic.  “...he’s probably about the same age as you..”  Actually, Matty was possibly a bit older than Dom, but that made Alex feel older than she cared to cope with right now.  “And about the same size as Hari.”  She thought she saw a glint of appreciation appear in Dom’s eye.  “And straight Dr Copeland.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” replied Dom primly, too primly to persuade anyone of his innocence.

 

“Of course not…”  Amused, and grateful for the few minutes of easy conversation as much as she was for the unexpected coffees, Alex decided she’d go back to Darwin via AAU - as much as she might want to drink all the coffees herself, she’d do better to share them and after her girlfriend, the only other people she felt she knew well enough in the hospital to give coffee to were on AAU.  “Thanks for the coffee Dom.”

 

“Don’t mention it.”  He turned to head for the lifts back to Keller only to pause and look back at her.  “Please, don’t mention it.”

 

“Have a good rest of your shift Dom…”

 

* * *

  
  


“Dr D!”

 

“Hello Fletch…”  Alex glanced at the patient board and then scanned the ward, taking in the few patients that were currently on AAU.  “Is Bernie about?”

 

“Office…” 

 

“Thanks.”  Grateful to whoever it was that had just rung up for Fletch and stopped their conversation before it could begin, Alex set off relatively quickly for the Consultants’ Office, trying to walk fast enough to not look ‘approachable’ but not so quickly she attracted attention either.  Clearly she’d judged it right as, by some miracle, she managed to make it to the door of the office where, much to her surprise and delight, her girlfriend was working away at paperwork on her own.

 

“Knock knock?” 

 

“Hey you…”  Leaning back in her chair which she’d finally remembered to reset that morning, Bernie tossed aside her pen and looked like she was glad of the distraction.  “I hadn’t realised my coffee prayers were going to be answered by you…”

 

“I’d love to take the credit,” Alex put the cardboard tray down on the patch of desk that Bernie had just cleared, “but we’ve Dom Copeland to thank for these.”

 

“Really?”  Clearing more of her desk, Bernie pulled the coffees nearer to her computer, creating a clear patch on the end of the desk for Alex to perch on.

 

“Yeah.”  Alex took the top off the two larger cups and saw they were cappuccinos.  “Can you…” Alex made a wiggling gesture with her hand.  “...for both of us?”

 

“‘Course…”  PIcking up a cappuccino in her right hand and an espresso in her left, Bernie started to pour the espresso into the cappuccino while gently swirling the larger cup.  “Remind me what Dom did?”

 

“Condemned us to a lifetime of fruit tea and knitting?”  Alex took the now super-strong milky coffee from Bernie with a smile of thanks, their fingers brushing and lingering for a split second that once upon a time would have had Bernie’s eyes darting nervously around as she snatched her hand away, worried about someone seeing their ‘rule-breaking’.  But that was in the past as instead, rather than snatching her hand away, Bernie let it drop onto Alex’s thigh and just rest there, a comforting and reassuring anchor between them.

 

“Ah.”  Coffee mixing forgotten, Bernie smoothed the wrinkles in Alex’s scrub trousers out with her fingers and then, fabric smooth, continued to just aimlessly gently tease and trace swirling patterns and shapes on her girlfriend’s thigh as she remembered the conversation on AAU after Alex and Serena had returned with the coffees.  “Lesbian Bed Death, I remember…”  She looked up and smiled the lazy, crooked smile that made Alex’s insides flip just like the first time she’d realised that when Bernie smiled  _ that  _ smile with half closed eyes that still managed to sparkle, not only was that a smile that only Alex got, but it was a smile that was full of mischief and joy and love.  “How are you doing?”  Bernie didn’t say ‘on Darwin’ aloud, leaving the question open for Alex to answer however she wanted.

 

“Medically fine…”  Alex took a sip of her coffee and rested her other hand on Bernie’s, capturing the surgeon’s fingers between her own and stilling them, the second cappuccino and espresso combination forgotten for the moment.  “Mo Effanga is a talented surgeon.”

 

“Have you been in theatre with her?” asked Bernie, picking up the second espresso with her free hand and pouring it in a swirling pattern into the second cappuccino.  It wasn’t quite as successful creating the swirling motion with the trickle of espresso, but it was preferable to either drinking them separately or letting go of Alex.

 

“Not yet.”  Alex traced Bernie’s knuckles with her finger, taking a moment to organise her thoughts.  “I’m in theatre with her in an hour or so…”

 

Bernie sipped her coffee while trying to decide if Alex needed a ‘but’ or an ‘and’ as a conversational nudge, or whether she should just take a guess as to what was causing a weight to settle over her girlfriend.  However, before she could pick a way forwards, the phone on her desk rang, startling them both out of their respective thoughts.

 

“Yes?”  Having swopped her coffee for the phone, Bernie trapped it between her ear and shoulder, enabling her to achieve near perfect multi-tasking as she could continue to hold Alex’s hand, drink her coffee, listen to whoever it was that had called her finish their conversation with someone else first and look at Alex with what was probably a nauseatingly sweet expression on her face. 

 

“I should…”  Alex jerked her head in the direction of the door, thinking she would go and spend the rest of her break in the Peace Garden or somewhere rather than stop Bernie from working.

 

“Stay?” encouraged Bernie, turning her hand over so she could hold Alex’s hand properly while she put her coffee back on her desk.  Holding the phone with her hand clamped firmly over the mouthpiece, she continued quickly.  “Unless you’re off break?  They…” She moved the phone slightly to demonstrate ‘they’ meant whoever was on the other end of the call.  “...haven’t said anything yet.”

 

“Sure?”  Seeing Bernie nod, Alex’s shoulders and spine slumped in grateful relief at being able to pass another minute or two in the unexpected sanctuary of the AAU Consultants’ Office.  Compared to the palatial quarters of the consultant offices on some of the other wards she’d experienced in Holby so far, including Darwin, it was cramped before Bernie had moved in as a second consultant.  But despite the lack of space and the mountains of files and paperwork that two consultants generated, not to mention the often noisy and always busy AAU ward being right outside, there was something about it that made Alex feel calmer than she had felt all shift, and it wasn’t just because her lover was holding her hand.

 

“Sure,” confirmed Bernie with a lightning fast nod and wink as she repositioned the phone against her ear, coffee temporarily forgotten about as she listened to whoever it was had rung her.  “Yes, alright.”  She looked at the clock on the wall and distractedly chewed her lip as she continued to think something through, eyes still and focussed on something only she could see.  “Five minutes?”  Clearly her offer was not quite what the person on the other end of the phone had expected prompting an exasperated sigh from Bernie as she looked at Alex and rolled her eyes.  “Mr Valentine, you either want my opinion on your patient or you don’t.  And if you do want it, I will be there in five minutes, not ten.”

 

Alex thought about attempting to conceal her smile behind her coffee but instead decided to just grin at Bernie, letting her girlfriend see how amused she was by the conversation that Bernie was having for what was the umpteenth time within Alex’s earshot, nevermind how many times Bernie must have gone through it in her career.  As far as Bernie was concerned, it was generally fairly straightforward - once surgeons reached a certain degree of specialist experience and competency, within their chosen specialty, if they wanted a trauma opinion on their patient but didn’t find the next five minutes convenient, then the patient didn’t _ need _ a trauma consult.  As a basic triaging approach, it had generally ensured that when they were receiving high numbers of casualties that had varying degrees of injury and trauma, she’d ended up seeing the patients that needed her because of their condition as opposed to seeing the patients whose doctors wanted a safety net.

 

“Then I’ll see you in five minutes.”  Shaking her head in with some degree of bafflement, Bernie returned the phone to her desk and rubbed her neck distractedly.

 

“Trauma consult?”  Alex was trying to remember the Darwin patients she’d seen on rounds earlier, wondering which one it might be.

 

“Transfer from ED - I think Oli wants them to come here but I could be wrong.”  Bernie stood up and stretched, not letting go of Alex’s hand.  “Do you want to tell me what you’re hiding from?” she asked, her voice quiet and gentle, her perceptiveness catching Alex off guard.

 

“Ghosts and nightmares…” admitted Alex, ducking her head down, trying to disappear behind her hair and therefore avoid Bernie’s eyes.

 

“Hey…”  Catching a gentle hold of her girlfriend’s chin, Bernie guided Alex’s head up again, so that they could make eye contact.  “None of that…”  Bernie traced along a delicate cheekbone with the pad of her thumb.  “Not when you’re the hero of the story.”

 

“Hardly…”  Trying to turn away from Bernie’s far too observant gaze, Alex slipped down from her perch on the desk - irrespective of how she was feeling, Bernie had to go.

 

Leaning forwards, Bernie kissed Alex’s forehead as she reluctantly let go of her hand, needing to pick up her pass and stethoscope from the desk. “You saved my life…”  The trick, Bernie had discovered, to talking about her thoughts and emotions was actually no trick at all, but the realisation that she was more worried about Alex not knowing what she was feeling and thinking than she was afraid of how Alex might react when she found out.  Once she’d cleared that hurdle, Bernie had found she didn’t actually have any worries about picking the right words or struggling to say them because when she needed them, the words just happened.  “Out there, and again, here.   Not Oli Valentine, not Zosia March and  _ definitely  _ not Marcus.”  Seeing Alex now at least looking at her again, Bernie allowed herself to start to smile the way Alex immediately associated with some typical ‘Bernie’ quip that said by anyone else would have Alex groaning but invariably saw Alex playing along and joining in more often than not.  “I’m prepared to consider giving Self a bit of credit though.”

 

“Because he’s not here?”

 

“That’s right…”  Grinning, Bernie made a big production of poking Alex in the belly with her right index finger. “...but you have to agree, my prodding is top notch still...”

 

“Hmm…”  Alex caught hold of Bernie’s finger before she could demonstrate her ‘skill’ a second time, smiling at the surgeon’s silliness in spite of the swirling chaos that her thoughts had managed to tangle themselves into while she’d been on Darwin this morning.  She never did do well on HDU wards when there weren’t any operations, finding the hours of constant monitoring but not reacting not only wearing on her nerves but also when she had too much time to overthink things.  Add to that the specific mixture of muddled emotions that her first time working on Darwin had triggered and it wasn’t really that much of a surprise that Bernie had been able to pinpoint what was bugging her so easily.  

 

She still didn’t accept Bernie’s ‘hero’ summary, but they’d argued and debated that for hours and hours more than once when they’d been tentatively putting their lives back together, first as battered and bruised individuals and then as a couple.  It was one of those agree to disagree points in their relationship, with Bernie sticking to her hero assessment and Alex adamant she wasn’t the one who’d been heroic.  They’d reconciled their stand off when Alex had agreed with Bernie’s observations that few of the soldiers they’d treated over the years who were described as ‘a hero’ also struggled to accept they’d been heroic.  Unlike which side of the bed they each individually preferred, or whether they slept with the window open or closed, they both were able to agree that whether or not Bernie could think of Alex as her ‘hero’ while Alex failed to see how she’d been ‘heroic’ was a difference of opinion they could live with without starting each day grumpily.

The one thing that Bernie had been keen to make sure Alex did understand and agree on,  was that she should not cast herself as the ‘villain’ in Bernie’s marriage break-up - if anyone was the ‘villain’ then Bernie would acknowledge that she was the one who had been unfaithful,  although she personally considered that both she and Marcus were jointly culpable in allowing the quiet withering and dying of their marriage long before Bernie even met Alex, nevermind got around to breaking her marriage vows.  Either way, as far as Bernie was concerned, Marcus’ behaviour during the actual contesting of the divorce had elevated him to super-villain status, a point Alex was now more than ready to agree to once she’d seen the accumulated divorce papers Bernie had given to her to read.

 

“Would it help if I told Zosia March that Marcus revealed his true, shit-toned colours during the divorce and she should stop with the passive-aggressive guilt trip looks?” Bernie was fairly certain that Zosia was still preferring to think of other peoples’ relationships in fairytale terms.

 

“Bern!”  Startled out of her thoughts by what she considered to be a rather outrageous suggestion from her girlfriend, Alex couldn’t help but smirk at the idea.  “It would be thoroughly unprofessional…”

 

“So is the Ward ganging up on you.”  Speaking of which, Bernie really did need to head up to Darwin before Oli overreacted.  “But I won’t say anything to Zosia,” promised Bernie, relieved to see Alex looking calmer and less pre-occupied than when she’d arrived.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You coming?”

 

“In a minute.”  Alex realised she’d drunk all of her coffee, so tossed the cup in the bin.  “Think I’ll go say hi to Ro first…”  She looked at the clock on the wall of the office rather than checking the time on her phone.  “I’m not due back from my break for another 15 minutes.”

 

“Might see you up there then.”  Bernie suspected she’d be about that long on Darwin and, knowing when Alex would be on the Ward, she was confident she could find a reason to stay up there if AAU hadn’t paged for her first.  “I know Mo Effanga wanted to talk to me about techniques…”

 

“I just bet she did…” mumbled Alex, before colouring when Bernie’s smirk told her she’d said that aloud - she’d not needed more than 2 minutes in the present of Mo Effanga to realise that the cardiothoracic consultant had something of a professional crush on her girlfriend.  In an attempt to distract Bernie from her embarrassment,  Alex made to shoo Bernie out of her own office.  “Go!”  

 

“Yes Dr D!”  And, snapping off a textbook salute complete with an impish wink, Bernie headed for Darwin, glad that she’d been able to help her lover slay some more demons…  their happy bubble was being repaired and made stronger, every day, as together they worked on banishing their combined demons and ghosts.

 

* * *

 

“Really?  You’d do that for me?”  Mo Effanga’s excitement was obvious to anyone within earshot, which included Alex, who’d returned to Darwin after her break just in time to miss whatever it was that had been offered to the consultant.

 

“I don’t see why not…”  Bernie’s amusement at Mo’s excitement was less obvious, although Alex was certain she could hear the ‘smile’ in her lover’s voice, even if she knew it was medically impossible to claim as much.  “It’s a quick procedure to do…”  As Alex turned the corner, she saw Bernie leaning against the counter, one foot resting on the other, her stethoscope in her hand that was resting on the counter.  “...so it wouldn’t keep you off Darwin for too long.”

 

“And I can observe?”  Mo was grinning broadly, only just containing her decidedly un-consultant-like urge to ‘happy dance’.

 

“You can do it.”  Bernie’s grin went up a notch at seeing the sudden change in Mo’s demeanour.

 

“Me?”  All thoughts of ‘happy dance’ celebrations shot from Mo’s mind as she tried to work out what Bernie was thinking, her initial euphoria at gaining an opportunity to observe the ‘ledge’ that was Berenice Wolfe being replaced with a bubble of rising terror.  “Do it?”  If Mo did the procedure, she’d not be able to observe Bernie, which was a rather big reason for her wanting to be in the operating theatre in the first place.  “Where will you be?”

 

“Assisting.”  Bernie caught sight of Alex who was hanging back, ostensibly checking the notice board for something but mostly keeping out of the way.  “I imagine that you’ll come with a decent understanding of the procedure and you’re clearly confident on the anatomy…”  Alex smiled as she heard Bernie’s little speech, usually delivered with the biting edge of sarcasm that had often been needed to put over-confident younger medics back in their boxes after their first big success - it sounded rather different when Bernie was actually being  genuinely sincere.  “...not to mention exceptional technique...”  Alex’sr eyes widened when she heard that particular compliment - as far she could recall, Bernie had only ever told two other surgeons that.  “Unless you’re not up to it?”  Bernie’s question was casually asked, but the challenge was clearly there.

 

“Oh I’m up to it!”  Clapping her hands together and giving a nonchalant wink that was hopefully covering up her sudden bout of nervousness, Mo was back in the ‘happy dance’ zone as her inner ‘fangirl’ realised that what ‘the ledge’ was offering was far, far more than an opportunity to observe...it was far more terrifying and way more awesome.

 

“Excellent.  If we’re extra lucky, we’ll get Dr Dawson as our anaesthetist...”  Bernie raised her voice just enough to make it impossible for Alex to pretend she hadn’t heard.  Bernie’s smile acquired an extra sparkle when she saw Alex turn and head over to join them, a part eaten cereal bar in her hand.

 

“Ah, yes….”  Whatever Mo was going to say, she quickly changed her mind when she saw that Alex was joining them,  with Zosia not far behind as she too returned from her break.

 

“Flattery will…”  began Alex, having a feeling she knew what was coming based on how Bernie was eying her.

 

“Get me nowhere, I know,” agreed Bernie, eying her prize and ignoring Mo for the moment.  “But the two are not dependent.”

 

“Unlike Trauma and…” Alex was about to say ‘call rooms’, thinking back to their conversation earlier in the week when Bernie had been equally scathing about St Mark’s’ trauma training and their ‘one doctor one bed’ call room policy, but wasn’t sure whether that was a good sentence to finish given how efficient hospital grapevines were.  Fortunately, she didn’t need to worry about finishing the sentence, or the hospital grapevine, as Bernie zoned in on her ‘target’ and, much to Mo and Zosia’s surprise, took a healthy bite out of Alex’s cereal bar.

 

“And if you’re really lucky…” Alex looked from Bernie to her hand that had been holding the cereal bar but was now just holding the empty wrapper, then at the speechless Mo.  “...she’ll have had some lunch before the operation.”

 

“Smphry.”

 

“You’re forgiven,” laughed Alex, leaning over the counter and tossing the wrapper in the bin, fluent in ‘Bernie with her mouthful’.

 

“Hmph?”  Chewing steadily, unable to really continue the conversation until she’d consumed the ‘stolen’ cereal bar, Bernie frowned when she thought she tasted pistachio nuts.

 

“Yes, it’s got pistachios in it.”

 

“Aaa..llll…” This time, Bernie’s groan was distinct enough for Mo to hear what she was saying, although she misunderstood what it meant.

 

“Pistachio?  That’s a nut...wait, allergy?”  Alarmed, Mo looked from Bernie to Alex, not sure what she was supposed to do, completely forgetting what she knew about the two military medics.

 

“No, no allergy.”  Quick to reassure Mo, Alex let her amusement show as she sought to enlighten the still confused cardio-thoracic consultant. “She loves them, I can’t stand them.”

 

“Thank you.”  Mouth no longer full, Bernie was able to participate in the conversation once more without Alex having to provide a translation for Mo and Zosia who, Bernie suspected, was eavesdropping despite appearing preoccupied with looking at something on the computer screen at the adjacent desk.  “How did you know?”

 

“That you hadn’t eaten anything?”  Alex smirked.  “Ro’s learned what your stomach sounds like.”  She’d gone in to say hi to him on her way back to Darwin and instead found herself promising to make Bernie eat something so he didn’t have to listen to the ‘gurgle gremlin’ any longer.  Past experience told her that if she tried to make Bernie eat something, she’d be met with stubborn surgeon whereas if she just appeared to be eating something herself, Bernie would try to steal a bit.

 

“Ro?”  Mo was about to say that she didn’t know of anyone on the staff called ‘Ro’ before she remembered hearing about the patient who’d been brought back to Holby in the helicopter...which was what Zosia was looking at photographs of.  “That was quite something at the weekend…” said Mo, moving to stand with Zosia looking at the photograph on the screen.

 

“We did?”  Confused by the subject change and the mention of the weekend, Bernie and Alex shared a look as each checked with the other to see what Mo might be talking about, unable to see whatever it was that was holding Mo and Zosia’s attention on the computer.  The weekend was a long time ago as far as their memories went, with Alex spending most of it in theatre St Austin’s and Bernie doing the same on AAU.  In fact, they’d barely seen each other since Monday night when Bernie had driven home from her shift to find Alex just arriving with the celebratory curry...

 

“Oh, right.  The boiler.”  It was Bernie who got there a split second before Alex - it would have been much worse spending the weekend without either heating or hot water if they hadn’t been able to have showers at their respective hospitals each shift.

 

“Boiler?”  Mo looked up at them.  “What are you two talking about?”

 

“The weekend?”  Alex knew Bernie was still smarting a touch at not being able to fix the boiler herself, but there wasn’t much anyone could have done unless they had the replacement valve that they’d needed. “Our boiler died.”

 

“You’re kidding me.”  Rocking back on her heels, Mo wasn’t sure if this was a wind up - it sounded like it should be a wind up, but her hunch was that they weren’t the sorts to make that sort of joke.

 

“Nope.  Gas valve went on Friday and I couldn’t fix it, so we had no hot water or heating all weekend.  Why?”  Bernie shot another grateful smile at Alex for staying in to wait for the plumber on Monday - Bernie’s original plan would have spectacularly failed as it relied on the plumber turning up at 8 and having the replacement valve with them so she could then be on AAU for the start of her shift.  Instead, Alex had had to suffer the ‘interesting’ experience of waiting for most of the morning until the plumber finally turned up, only to then leave again almost immediately to go and get the replacement valve.  Although clearly fairly standard based on the ‘workmen’ stories everyone else had delighted in regaling them with during the rest of the week, it wasn’t one Alex or Bernie had that much experience of.  Based on their combined Army experiences, things like hot water in your shower either worked or didn’t work - working things were usually when you were ‘under canvas’ in the field and stayed working thanks to the sappers, while the things that didn’t work were usually not working and awaiting repair when you arrived at the Barracks...and were still awaiting repair when you were posted somewhere else.  “What were we supposed to be talking about?”

 

“Helicopter?”  

 

Mo angled the computer screen so that Bernie could see the photograph that they’d been looking at which appeared to be one of the ones Jako had sent to Fletch, showing the nurse as ‘Action Dad’ just about to climb into the helicopter once they’d loaded Ro onboard at the scene.

 

“Oh, that.”  Before Bernie could add anything else, her phone made the noise that told her it was AAU paging for her.  “Sorry, AAU calls…”  Pulling the phone out of her pocket, she squeezed Alex’s arm as she went past her, knowing that her girlfriend would understand everything she didn’t have time to also say, like ‘sorry to leave you to be interrogated’ and ‘thanks for feeding me’, hoping that the ‘I love you’ was obvious.

 

“I mean…” continued Mo, not at all offended by Bernie’s sudden departure - she’d have been exactly the same if it had been one of the room alarms sounding.  “...I can understand you not thinking to mention the good looking guys in uniform…”

 

“You mean my younger brother?”

 

“That too.”  That wasn’t what Mo had meant, and both she and Alex knew it, but it was a good comeback from the anaesthetist and earned her a grin from Mo.

 

“Dr Dawson?” 

 

Hearing her name called, Alex saw one of the nurses emerge from one of the HDU beds, evidently wanting some help with their patient who, if Alex’s memory from rounds earlier was correct, was proving to be difficult to keep ‘comfortable’ post-op.  Knowing that Mo wouldn’t expect her to do anything other than go and attend to her patient, Alex returned Mo’s smile and went to see what she could do to help the nurse.

 

“Do you believe her?” asked Zosia finally, when it was just her and Mo left.

 

“That he’s her younger brother?” Mo looked more closely at the photograph on the screen, reaching around Zosia for the mouse and zooming in a bit so she could see the photo in its actual size rather than shrunk to fit the monitor area.  “Yeah, they look alike.”  

 

“Not that…” Zosia batted Mo’s arm away from the mouse so she could take over again and open up one of the other photographs that Fletch had sent Morven and who in turn had sent them on to Dom and her after it had come up when they’d had their breaks just now.  “That they didn’t know you were asking about this…”  

 

She gestured to the screen which now showed a picture of Fletch, Bernie and Alex all working together on their patient that had been captured by Jako’s helmet camera as they flew back to Holby.  You couldn’t actually see any of Ro, just the blankets from the ambulances he’d been wrapped up in on the stretcher, with the photo carefully cropped to mostly just show the Holby team at work inside the helicopter.  Jako had taken Bernie’s request to  find some pictures that would enable Fletch to show his kids he’d been ‘action dad’ seriously, but had done so compromising his friend’s dignity or privacy.

 

“I mean, a helicopter trip...really Mo?”  It was clear that Zosia was having a hard time believing it was possible to not remember the helicopter as the big moment of the weekend - it certainly was keeping the hospital gossips going even now, a couple of days later.

 

Using the keyboard to navigate between the handful of pictures that Jako had put together for Fletch to remember his helicopter adventure.   At first glance, it was easy to split everyone into two groups based on what they were wearing - scrubs for Alex, Bernie and Fletch; uniforms of various sorts for the Marines.  But looking closer, Mo started to notice the little things that made it clear that Bernie and Alex were genuinely at home in that helicopter.  It was a great photograph of Fletch stood looking up in awe at the helicopter coming in to pick them up at the scene - Mo hadn’t thought anything of it at first, of course you’d look up to watch a bloody big helicopter landing a few yards away from you...except Alex and Bernie weren’t looking up at the helicopter: they were completely focussed on their patient.  

 

“They didn’t forget Zosh…”

 

Pulling up the next picture, Mo realised it was just after they’d arrived at Holby.  The stretcher had met by Serena and Hanssen and the five of them were wheeling it away, followed by three Marines...it was again, a great picture of Fletch, his face caught mid grin as he watched the helicopter lift away.  Serena and Hanssen had also turned to look, just as Mo imagined she would too in the circumstances, but again, Bernie and Alex were apparently oblivious, their focus solely on their patient.  It wasn’t that they were unaware of the helicopter, it was just not a distraction to them, like it was to the others from Holby…

 

“But…”

 

“They didn’t forget Zosia,” repeated Mo, noticing the time and realising she needed to go and get ready to meet Alex in theatre for her afternoon operation.  “I just don’t think they thought it was all that unusual…”  Standing up, Mo found her pen and set off to her office, her mind buzzing with all the reading she wanted to do so she was ready when the call from Bernie came.

 

Bernie.  She was actually calling her ‘Bernie’.  Berenice Wolfe, total ledge that she was, was going to give her the opportunity to have a go with the new procedure that everyone was raving about but not yet doing...and was going to let Mo lead it.

 

Shutting her office door behind her, Mo gave in to the urge and let out a small ‘whoop’ before indulging in a few seconds of ‘happy dance’ - if she didn’t, she’d probably make a fool of herself in theatre by singing or something, which wouldn’t be cool.  And she needed to be cool.  She, Mo Effanga, could do cool...yeah, she was cool.  Giving her arms a quick shake and rolling her head around to stretch and loosen her neck, Mo sat down at her desk and ready to prep for her next surgery.

 

“Super cool Mo…” she told herself, taking a couple of deep breaths when she realised something.  There was a third thing that Bernie could have remembered the weekend for, apart from the helicopter or the boiler: she could have thought of the surgery itself as the ‘something different’.  But she hadn’t, because for all its unusualness as far as the rest of Holby was concerned, it had been ‘just another trauma’ as far as Bernie and Alex had been concerned, and trauma surgery as Bernie had said, ‘is what I do’.   That’s what made Bernie the ‘total ledge’ - not just her immense knowledge and experience but how matter of fact she was about things: if there was a patient needing her skills to operate on them, she did the operation, and if there was someone she could share her knowledge with, she would.  

  
Feeling calm again Mo took another breath and started to prep for her next operation, which as heart valve repair, was one of the bigger operations she’d used to get very anxious about when she was just starting her speciality but now, well...it was 'just' another valve repair...just as the weekend had been 'just' another helicopter transfer patient for Bernie and Alex... and that was super cool as far as Mo was concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it to the end - even I will (for once) admit that turned out rather longer than I originally planned. Still, I hoped you enjoyed it, and thanks again for reading.


End file.
